


This I Promise You

by chochowilliams



Series: Building A Family [5]
Category: Gravitation
Genre: 1st person pov, Anal, Angst, F/M, Infidelity, Japan Native: surname first, Language, Light Fantasy, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Minor Character Death, OCs - Freeform, Oral, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:42:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 90,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chochowilliams/pseuds/chochowilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Could it be that Shuichi really is just paranoid or is there something about the new neighbor?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Is It Paranoia?

**This I Promise You**  
 **Sequel to:** “My Heart Beats Like A Drum”  
 **Building A Family series**  
 **Written by:** Chochowilliams  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Gravitation or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.  
 **Summary:** Could it be that Shuichi really is just paranoid or is there something about the new neighbor?  
 **Warning:** M/M, Sexual Situations, Romance, Drama, Angst, Fantasy, Infidelity, OOC-ness, Language, M-Preg, Masturbation, Anal, Oral, Minor Character Death, OCs, 1st person POV, Japan Natives: surname first   
**Pairings:** Shuichi/Eiri, Hiro/Ayaka, Hiro/Suguru, OMC/OFC  
 **Insert:** Recap from “My Heart Beats Like A Drum”, “This I Promise You”, by *NSYNC, No Strings Attached  
 **A/N:** This is the fifth installment in the Building A Family series. In order, they are: “Parental Revenge”, “In the Closet”, “Give In To Me”, “My Heart Beats Like A Drum”, _This I Promise You, Because of You,_ “Limelight”. There original was 27 chapters, but I have since combined them to make them longer making 9 new chapters. On another note, this was the first story in the series that I wrote (in fact, it was the first fanfic I ever wrote) and I am not satisfied with it (not by a longshot), so eventually I will either rewrite it or allow someone else to have the honors. Enjoy!

 

* * *

 

_When the visions around you_   
_Bring tears to your eyes_   
_And all that surround you_   
_Are secrets and lies_   
_I’ll be your strength_   
_I’ll give you hope_   
_Keeping your faith when it’s gone_   
_The one you should call_   
_Was standing here all along_   
_And I will take you in my arms_   
_And hold you right where you belong_   
_‘Til the day my life is through_   
_This I promise you_   
_This I promise you_

- **“This I Promise You”, by *NSYNC, No Strings Attached**

 

* * *

 

**Last Time**

The elevator slowed as it came to his floor. Shuichi pushed away from the back wall as he heard the familiar ping. The doors slid open and he stepped out when Jacob indicated it was alright to proceed. He started down the hall towards the apartment he shared with Eiri and their son when the door to what used to be Chosokabe Kita-san’s apartment just this morning opened and out stepped a man who had to be at least Hiro’s height.

Jacob came to a sudden halt before him and held out an arm, which forced Shuichi to stop.

“Aah! Hello! You must be, Shindou-san,” the man greeted with a wide toothy grin when he spotted Shuichi.

Shuichi forced himself to smile at the man. “Hello,” he returned with a small voice. He felt his smile waver. The man had a pale complexion, but not like Eiri’s. It was more of a sickly paleness. Almost as if the man could keel over at any moment. The narrow eyes the color of mud seemed to bore deeply into Shuichi’s. An abnormally large nose took up most of his long face. Shuichi found himself taking several steps backwards away from the guy.

“I’m Rinjin Yasashii,” the man introduced. He stepped forward. “I’m your new neighbor. Nice to meet you.”

Shuichi stared at that hand with those white skeletal digits Yasashii was holding out to him. A wave of fear washed over him. He could not explain it, but he did not like this guy, not one bit. There was something about him. But thinking he was being ridiculous, for he did not even know the man, Shuichi tentatively stepped forward and shook the man’s proffered hand. Yasashii’s clammy, wraith-like fingers closed around his and Shuichi fought against the impulse to pull his hand back and race into his apartment to sterilize it. Instead, he remained where he was with a forced smile on his face. “N-nice to meet you too…Rinjin-san.”

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 1: Is it Paranoia?**

Paranoid.

They told me I should not worry about it, that he was probably just another “obsessed fan”. I was not so sure about that, but they reminded me that in the decade I have been in the music business, I have had countless fans just like him, fans so overtly obsessed.

I hate to admit it, but they are right. Some have even been downright clinically insane. I had been chased, mulled and stalked in almost every way, shape and form from everyone from fanatical groupies, conservative traditionalists, angry parents who think I am “corrupting” their young children, to the most obvious people: the damn media. I have seen my share of scandals. I even have several restraining orders against said people. You name it, I have been through it all.

Therefore, yeah, I could see their point. I mean, this person has done nothing even the most remotely threatening. I have not received any phone calls, nor have I received any letters or packages. He has not been cornering me, begging and threatening me to go out with him. No, this person was the perfect gentleman, a very good friend and neighbor.

Did I say “neighbor”? Oh, yeah. The person whom everyone was telling me I had nothing to worry about lives right down the hall from the apartment I share with my long time boyfriend Uesugi Eiri.

Rinjin Yasashii was aptly named. He was the gentle neighbor. He never made any noise, never had his television or radio on too high. He never had any parties that got too loud and out of control. If any of his neighbors got too loud and rowdy, or bothered him in any way, he would very kindly ask them to please keep it down. He was the ideal person to have as a neighbor but that was the problem: he was too perfect.

Why then, do you ask am I being paranoid of a man that was seemingly the ideal person to live next door? I have absolutely no idea to tell you the truth, but from the moment I stared into his mud-colored eyes and shook that clammy, white skeletal hand with its wraith-like fingers when he moved in our building a month ago, the guy has just plain given me with creeps.

Stupid, right? Probably, but I cannot help it! This Rinjin guy always just happens to be wherever I am.

_“What a coincidence,”_ he would laugh huskily.

Uh huh. Yeah, right. If you believe that, I have a bridge to sell you.

Rinjin-san _just happened_ to score tickets to every concert and appearance Bad Luck did. He _just happened_ to have backstage passes to all of our concerts. He just happened to leave and return from work at exactly the same time I did every single day. Even when I overslept or had to go into the studio early or when I got home late?

_“Come on, Shu,”_ Nakano Hiroshi, my best friend told me when I spoke to him about my creepy neighbor, _“don't be so paranoid. I think you're reading too much into this.”_

_“But Hiro…”_

_“Maybe the guy has the hots for you or something and is just afraid of saying anything. Anyway, the guy hasn't done anything, right?”_

_“Well, yeah, but…”_

_“Coincidence, Shu-chan,”_ Eiri told me when I spoke to me.

Coincidence? Bull-fucking-shit.

Rinjin Yasashii-san made my skin crawl. He gave me the heebie-jeebies. Every time I came within three meters of the guy, I have a panic attack. My mouth dries. I cannot breathe and I start sweating buckets. For the life of me, I cannot explain why I always become like this around this guy! He really is nice, kind, and gentle. He is a good friend, but…If I were a woman they would call it woman's intuition, right? Well, my intuition is telling me he is up to no good and it is only a matter of time before the shit hits the fan, but until then, I am trying to heed the advice from Hiro and Eiri. I am trying to make myself believe that this “gentle neighbor” meant me no harm and that I was only being paranoid but I was soon to find out just how right I was…

 

* * *

 

**November - Uesugi-Shindou Residence**

_Darkness. Silence. Utterly and complete. They surrounded me, encompassed and engulfed me. A sea of nothingness entrenches me. I am alone in a great, black void. The silence is just as thick, just as heavy and suffocating. There are no birds chirping, no locust buzzing, no creaking boards or settling foundations. I can hear none of the traffic that should be on the other side of the wall or hear the conversations of people floating up from the street. The only sound is the buzzing in my ears the silence causes._

_The hair on the back of my neck and on my arms stands on end as I suddenly feel as if I am no longer alone._

_My heart races, pounding painfully in my chest, making it difficult to catch my breath. The silence is drowned by my sudden wheezing that sounds louder than it really is in the unnatural silence. I place my hand on my rapidly rising and falling chest as I try to catch my breath._

_I lick my lips and swallow. My mouth has gone inexplicably dry._

_From out of the darkness come two ghostly hands. My eyes widen in fright. I swallow a scream that is trying to claw up my throat. I scramble backwards as the floating hands slowly travel toward me. I cannot allow those things to touch me. I do not want them anywhere near me!_

_Someone! Keep them away from me! Eiri! Help me!_

_“Stay away,” I cry. My voice shakes, betraying how terrified I am. I continue backing away from those hands, shaking my head and screaming into the darkness, “No!”_

_Suddenly I feel something solid and smooth rub up against my back. I gasp in disbelief as I feel behind me blindly. A wall! No! This is not happening! I inch my way along the barrier, pressing myself into it as if it would somehow swallow me and spit me out to safety somewhere where those bodiless hands would never find me._

_“What do you want? Who are you?” I cry, feeling fat tears roll down my face._

_I sob loudly, my cries echoing in the black nothingness. My wails grow as I find myself suddenly trapped in a corner, literally, with those wraithlike hands creeping towards me ever so slowly, prolonging and stretching out my fear and panic. I know that those things were not going to just come and shake my hand. They were out to get me! To rip me into tiny pieces and scatter me in the river! I have to get away! Dammit! Why was this happening to me? Why?_

_I am crying in earnest by now. My whole body is trembling. I shake my head back and forth, back and forth. I slide down the wall to the floor and huddle in as tiny a ball as I can._

_A scream rips from my lungs as those long, slinky digits cup my face. “Eiri,” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Yamero! Help me! Eiri!”_

Shuichi flew up in bed, screaming and entangled in the bed sheets. His face was twisted and contorted in terror. His plaid pajama bottoms were twisted around his slender body and his shoulder length jet-black layered hair was glued to his face with sweat. His fear followed him out of his dream and clouded his mind, hindering his ability to fully wake. The tangled sheets, in his mind, were those cold, clammy ghostly hands that would not relent their hold on him. He scrambled out of the bed with another scream, hitting the floor with a loud and hard thud but in his fear-induced haze, none of that registered. He crab walked in a blurred rush until his back hit something solid and whimpered.

Eiri flew up out of bed, having been ripped from a sleep deeper than that of the dead by a sound that chilled him to the bone and stopped his heart cold.

The first thing he saw when he was finally focused was his boyfriend huddled in a tight ball in the corner, his eyes wide and clouded in fear. Fully awake now, Eiri swallowed back his rising terror and panic. He tossed aside the bedcovers with a sound curse and fell to his knees in front of Shuichi. Having gone through this before, Eiri knew what to do. “Shuichi,” he called lightly as to not startle the younger man. He reached out to the visibly trembling man. “Shu, it's-”

Shuichi's whimpering turned into a cry of fright. His hand shot out quick, connecting with a loud, hard slap across Eiri's face.

The elder man stared across the room in shock. Slowly, he touched his cheek, wincing as he touched the tender spot.

He hit me, Eiri thought nonchalant with a blink. My sweet Shu actually hit me.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Shuichi was scampering out of the bedroom. Cursing, Eiri chased his faster, more agile boyfriend. He had to stop him before he escaped out into the hall. There was no telling what the neighbors would think if they saw a half naked man screaming in absolute terror racing down the hallway in the middle of the night. It was one thing for them to hear those noises from inside the apartment, they were all used to that by now but it was another to watch a man fleeing for his life out of the building.

Eiri tackled Shuichi to the floor, not bothering to be gentle or worry about splinters or rug burns.

He had never been so glad as he was right now that he had allowed Riku to spend the night at his friend’s house on a school night. The last thing the thirteen year old needed was to be a witness this. It would probably traumatize the poor boy.

Shuichi kicked, clawed, punched and screamed as Eiri used all his strength to pin the singer beneath him. In any other situation, this would very erotic. Eiri straddled Shuichi's flaying legs, holding them down in the process. Grabbing Shuichi’s tiny wrists, he held them securely above a squirming Shuichi's head. He brought back his other hand and slapped the singer harshly across the face, wincing as the sound echoed through the apartment. In a normal situation, he would never hit Shuichi. He would never hurt him. He did enough of that at the beginning of their relationship, but unfortunately, it seemed to be the only way to snap Shuichi out of it.

Immediately, Shuichi’s screams stopped. His struggles ceased. It was as if a switch had been thrown. The apartment became eerily silent except for the heavy sound of Eiri's breathing.

I am so out of shape, he thought.

He smiled softly as dull amethyst eyes blinked up at him. He could see life slowly returning to them. He watched as Shuichi’s twisted features relaxed and clouded over this time in confusion.

“Eiri,” Shuichi said softly. “Eiri, what's--I don't-- What happened?”

Eiri sighed, his body slumping. He dropped his head to his partner's chest and closed his eyes as he said a silent prayer. He suddenly felt exhausted. “I'm getting too old for this,” he muttered.

This has been going on for a month. Something had to be done.

Shuichi frowned at his boyfriend's silence. “Eiri,” he called, staring at the man's blond hair.

“God, Shu,” Eiri choked out. His throat was suddenly clogged with a sob as the adrenaline and the excitement wore off. “You scared the shit out of me. My heart just about stopped when I heard you scream. I never want to feel this way again.”

Shuichi blinked in confusion. Scream? What was he…?

He closed his eyes with a distressed cry. Tears stung his eyes. Another nightmare? Damn! What did he keep having these? It was ridiculous! Not only did they cause both Eiri and him to lose sleep but also he caused the man he loved unnecessary anxiety. Guilt rose up and swallowed the last remnants of the fear left behind by the dream that was even now slipping away.

“ _Gomen_ ,” he whispered, feeling the tears slid down his face. “I'm sorry.” Opening his eyes, he gasped as a pair of gorgeous, heart stopping golden hazel eyes stared into his, eyes that were full of worry, anger and relief at the same time.

Eiri could not believe what he heard coming from his life companion's mouth. Why did the damned idiot always have to apologize for every little thing? Sitting up, Eiri slid off his lover and lifted the smaller man into his lap. He enveloped him tightly in his arms.

Shuichi buried his face against Eiri's neck and cried silently. He so desperately needed his partner's warmth and love. He could only get this comforting presence from his soul mate. Not even his best friend Hiro could chase away the deeply rooted chills and fright after the nightmares sent him flying from some unknown, unseen, mysterious enemy.

He could never remember the nightmare. It faded as soon as he woke up, or as Eiri said, “snapped back to reality”. The more he tried to remember it, the farther away it slipped. The only things that remained were a coldness that seemed to have built a foundation and planted roots deeply within his soul and a mind numbing fear.

“I'm sorry,” Shuichi cried, hugging the man tighter. Pulling back reluctantly, he searched his older lover's face. “Did I--Did I…?”

Eiri snorted and wiggled his jaw back and forth. “Nearly broke my jaw this time, damned brat,” he teased in mock seriousness.

Shuichi's face crumbled. Fresh tears filled with tears. “I'm so sorry! It's my fault!” he cried throwing himself at the writer.

Eiri heaved a heavy sigh. One of his hands was splayed in the middle of Shuichi’s back while the other clutched at his silken hair. “Stop apologizing, Shu-chan,” he whispered softly. “And please stop crying! I hate seeing you so upset!”

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry,” he cried louder.

“Shu! I was only joking! Please, stop crying!”

Shuichi's cries only grew.

Sighing, Eiri rested his chin against the top of Shuichi’s head. “What if I said there was a way for you to make it up to me?”

That got Shuichi's immediate attention. Sitting up, he wiped at his tear-streaked face and searched his lover's eagerly. “Really?”

A sly grin slipped across Eiri's face. His eyes glinted mischievously. Shuichi felt himself blushing under the older man’s heated gaze. Eiri's hands slid tantalizingly slow down Shuichi’s back to cup his firm, round ass. He felt Shuichi shiver and this time it had nothing to do with the nightmare. Eiri squeezed the tight, rounded globes. He felt Shuichi's cock begin to harden against his own rapidly swelling one. Shuichi moaned loudly, arched his back and tossed his head back as he felt his groin stroked by his lover's through their loose pajama bottoms.

“Eiri,” Shuichi groaned breathlessly. He tightened his legs around Eiri's waist, rubbing and grinding himself against the other man. He moaned again, dropping his head and stared into Eiri's hunger filled eyes. His breathing sped and his heart raced.

Growling, Eiri tackled Shuichi's mouth just as he had wrestled him to the ground earlier, hard and without mercy. Shuichi and Eiri swallowed each other. They bit and nipped, their tongues wrestling and fighting for dominance.

Eiri left a trail of saliva as he kissed down Shuichi’s neck, biting and sucking the tender flesh. He was determined to leave his mark on his territory. He wanted the whole world to know that this petit man was his and his alone.

Shuichi made small helpless noises as Eiri dominated him. “Eiri! Oh, god, Eiri!”

“What do you want, Shu,” Eiri breathed huskily. He felt so hard it was just this side of pain. “Tell me what you want.”

Breathlessly, Shuichi’s chest heaved heavily. “You. Eiri.”

“Exactly what you want,” Eiri growled, pressing their bodies together.

Shuichi tossed his head back and arched his back. “Eiri! Don't tease me!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do.”

“Ah! Fuck me! Eiri! Now!”

Eiri smiled slyly. “Your wish is my command,” he whispered hoarsely.

He stood; keeping Shu pressed against him as if they were Siamese twins and entered their bedroom. He collapsed them both onto the bed. Leaning over his heavily panting lover, Eiri kept the lower half of their bodies pressed together while he lifted his upper half in a push-up motion and stared down into his lover's flushed and already sweating face. He ground his hips into Shuichi’s. He enjoyed watching as the singer tossed his head back and cried out, clearly lost in his ecstasy. Eiri groaned as their cocks were squeezed together. He smiled victoriously as Shuichi's cries becoming louder he was ground into the bed teasingly.

Eiri felt like a ravenous wolf. Growling deep in his throat, he attacked his lover. Shuichi's cries, moans, and mewling echoed throughout the apartment. Eiri knew that the neighbors were getting quite an earful right about now but he could care less. Just the thought of everyone knowing exactly what he was doing to his boyfriend spurned him to become even wilder and aggressive. Shuichi ate it all up, screaming loudly for all to hear.

 

* * *

 

He could hear them all too clearly.

“Faster! Harder,” he heard the singer shout. “ _Hai_! Yes! Yes!”

The man clasped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, curling into a tight ball in order to drown out the noise and images being forced into his mind.

“Oh, God, Eiri! Aah! Oh! Aah!” he heard the singer chant right behind his head. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Eiri!”

He could picture all too clearly his young koi being mauled by that pervert writer's rough hands, groped by a filthy mouth and raped by a cock way too large for his Shu-han to enjoy. Who knows where that thing has been? The images of that beast pounding his sweet Shuichi into the mattress angered him, blinding him with a fury so strong it was nothing he had ever felt before.

He curled tighter, burying himself deeply within the covers and ground his teeth as the insistent creaking and hammering grew in intensity. Then he heard it, the worst part of hearing that pervert bastard making love to his Shu-han, their voices crying out in disgusting harmony before blissful silence fell over the building.

Uncurling himself, he glared out into the night, his face twisted in anger. “Damn you, Yuki Eiri,” the man hissed. “I will make you pay for twisting and abusing my sweet Shu-han. He will be mine! This I promise you!”

 

**…To Be Continued…**

 

 

 


	2. And on the Seventh Day...

**This I Promise You**  
 **Sequel to:** “My Heart Beats Like A Drum”  
 **Building A Family series**  
 **Written by:** Chochowilliams  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Gravitation or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.  
 **Summary:** Could it be that Shuichi really is just paranoid or is there something about the new neighbor?  
 **Warning:** M/M, Sexual Situations, Romance, Drama, Angst, Fantasy, Infidelity, OOC-ness, Language, M-Preg, Masturbation, Anal, Oral, Minor Character Death, OCs, 1st person POV (Chapter 1), Japan Natives: surname first   
**Pairings:** Shuichi/Eiri, Hiro/Ayaka, Hiro/Suguru, OMC/OFC  
 **Insert:** Recap from Chapter 2, “Send Me An Angel” by the Scoprions, “Smashing Blue”, “Break Through” and “Spicy Marmalade” by Bad Luck  
 **A/N:** Enjoy!

 

* * *

 

**Last Time**

He could picture all too clearly his young koi being mauled by that pervert writer's rough hands, groped by a filthy mouth and raped by a cock way too large for his Shu-han to enjoy. Who knows where that thing has been? The images of that beast pounding his sweet Shuichi into the mattress angered him, blinding him with a fury so strong it was nothing he had ever felt before.

He curled tighter, burying himself deeply within the covers and ground his teeth as the insistent creaking and hammering grew in intensity. Then he heard it, the worst part of hearing that pervert bastard making love to his Shu-han, their voices crying out in disgusting harmony before blissful silence fell over the building.

Uncurling himself, he glared out into the night, his face twisted in anger. “Damn you, Yuki Eiri,” the man hissed. “I will make you pay for twisting and abusing my sweet Shu-han. He will be mine! This I promise you!”

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 2: And on the Seventh Day…**

**Uesugi-Shindou Residence**

Hearing that could rival a cats is what woke Shuichi at dawn; that and the fact that his internal clock was buzzing annoyingly. It was refusing to let him sleep a second longer. Sometimes he wished he could hit the snooze button like he used to, but over a decade of waking up with the birds had ingrained and trained him to be up at the same damn time each and every damned day.

A couple of good things came with this “talent”. One, Eiri did not have to “wake” him up. Waking Shuichi up, in Eiri's mind, consisted of kicking him out of bed. Two, he could actually get to the studio on time, which meant he did not have to hear Suguru bitch and complain. Although, he had to admit, it was funny as all hell to rile the young manager and music arranger. Shuichi chuckled.

Manager. Shuichi shook of his head as he padded as naked as a jaybird into the bathroom. It was still a little weird to think of the younger man like that. It had been…Shuichi paused by the shower, deep in though…seven years now, or was it eight, since K-san left?

Shrugging, the singer turned on and adjusted the water. Once it was hot enough to turn the bathroom into a sauna, Shuichi stepped under the needle-like spray. Tossing his head back, he sighed contently as the water hit his face. Dropping his head forward, he suppressed a moan as the spray massaged his aching muscles. He had not felt this tense after a night of sex in a very long time.

A hot blush spread across his face as he recalled in vivid detail the events of the night before. There had been no gentleness, no sweetness, no desire for innocent love making in either of their systems last night. It had been an animalistic urge. That was the only way to describe how he felt. Unfortunately, one memory led to another and before he knew it, Shuichi remembered what led to the urge for the writer to claim him like it was mating season.

Paling, a shudder raced down Shuichi's spine. He hugged his arms about himself and leaned against the wall, shivering. The steamy bathroom had suddenly turned chilly.

The nightmare was nothing more than an obscure memory now. He could not recall clearly the intense fright that had consumed him. He could not remember what had been so frightening. It was just a blur at this point. Well, that was not entirely true. Usually he could not remember anything about his dreams, but this time there was something he could remember: a face.

Long and oval, his complexion so pale it was almost ghostly white. His nose was pinched at the bridge and flared widely at the nostrils to make a large triangle in the center of his face. Those narrow, dark chocolate brown eyes staring at him with an all too familiar hunger that made the singer squirm uncomfortably even now. The wide lips were tilted at the corners, imitating the gleam in those devious eyes.

Shuichi saw it each day on his way to work in the morning, when he returned home at night and sometimes it followed him throughout the city. That face caused Shuichi to break out in a cold sweat and cringe in fright. The world slid off its axis every time Shuichi caught even the smallest glimpse of him and not in the good way. It did not even have to be him. Just something or someone that reminded him of the man would cause Shuichi's stomach to heave in protest as it was doing right now.

“Oh god,” Shuichi moaned. His insides suddenly felt as if they were roasting. Bile filled his mouth like a leaky faucet. Feeling suddenly lightheaded and dizzy, Shuichi tumbled onto the stool with his eyes squeezed tightly and hung his head between his knees.

Eiri and Hiro both knew how Shuichi felt about Rinjin-san and about how the man made Shuichi feel. Both agreed Shuichi’s uneasiness over the man was unfounded. Because of the singer's history with overzealous fans, the two believed he had become used to jumping at shadows and had turned into someone that only saw the bad things in a person. Shuichi had been stalked, hunted, haunted, watched and chased. He had fans that loved him a little too much and others who just plain disliked him for one reason or another. So yes, Shuichi had become a little weary of people over the years.

To Shuichi, the one person that should be feared the most was the mad, psychotic fiend who appeared as normal, sane and in control as the next guy. Whether Eiri and Hiro wanted to believe it or not, Shuichi knew his new neighbor was not some gentle, kind man that should be invited over for afternoon tea.

The problem was how to explain his uneasiness. Unfortunately, he could not, not to the satisfaction of his lover and best friend anyway. It was why he always lied when they asked. It was the most difficult decision Shuichi had had to make in his entire life, but lying to the two people who meant the world to him was the only thing that he could do because every time he tried to broach the subject, they called him an idiot and refused to listen to his complaints.

Instead, he poured his heart and problems out to his twin cousins Shiro Kei and Kai and their half-American friend Michael Kagawa-Montgomery.

After K-san left to manage another band at America's XMR Records under the direction of Reiji several years ago, Seguchi Tohma allowed his young cousin, Fujisaki Suguru, to take over as Bad Luck's manager on a trail basis while still keeping his job as the band's music arranger and keyboardist. Unfortunately, the pressure and stress were too much for the young man to handle and something had to give. In the end, that something was playing synthesizer.

That decision left the band in a real bind. When, at a family gathering, Shuichi expressed this latest development and newest crisis, he was surprised to learn that his younger cousins along with their half Japanese-American exchange student friend had started a band and were looking for a singer. After a meeting with Hiro, Suguru and Sakano-san, the boys were brought in and given a screen test. They passed with excellence and the rest is history.

Unlike his boyfriend and best friend, these three actually took his worries seriously. Kei, Kai and Michael did not judge him or jump to conclusions. They did not slap him upside the head or bonk his head with their fist and call him names as if he was still that idiotic eighteen-year-old. They knew what Shuichi had gone through as one of the world's most recognizable people and trusted his judgment. Regrettably, like Shuichi, they had no idea what to do.

_“He hasn't done anything,”_ Michael confessed once with a helpless shrug.

The twins had nodded in agreement with their friend’s assessment.

_“If you're right about him-,”_ Kei would start.

_“-unfortunately, there's nothing anyone can do until he does do something,”_ Kai would finish.

That may be true, but by then, it might be too late.

 

* * *

 

**Rinjin Residence**

The sounds of Bad Luck's latest single filled the quiet of the apartment. It was a cover of an old Scorpions song. When the final cords echoed into silence, the sounds of an electric guitar filled the quiet as the song began yet again.

**Let's spend the night together**   
**I know you want it too**   
**The magic of the moment**   
**Is what I've got for you**   
**The heartbeat of this night**   
**Is made to lose control**   
**And there is something in your eyes**   
**That's longing for some more**   
**Let us find together**   
**The beat we're looking for**

Blissful silence was one of the best things to hear coming through the paper-thin walls that separated the Shindou-Uesugi residence and his own. The next best sound was the tantalizing sounds of high pitched, snarling voices that snapped and screamed at one another. It was rare to hear that perverted writer and his brainwashed koibito arguing but it was like music to Yasashii's ears when it did happen. Every time they fought, he got his hopes up that maybe, just maybe this time would be the day his sweet, little nymph god would see reason and the error of his way and leave that psycho bastard. Yasashii would be right there to comfort the singer. He would let the younger man cry on his shoulder while he held him close and tight, their bodies pressed intimately together. He tried not to remember that every time they did fight, which they did like cats and dogs, they always ended up making up, which they did just as loud and rambunctious and with the same high-pitched, snarling, snappish screams.

**The rhythm of love**   
**Keeps me dancing on the road**   
**The rhythm of love**   
**Got the groove that hits the bone**   
**The rhythm of love**   
**Is the game I'm looking for**   
**The rhythm of love**   
**Is the heartbeat of my soul**

Yasashii found himself growing hard as his pictured his soon to be koibito. He could see the younger man splayed on his back in the middle of the large feather down quilted bed surrounded by thousands of rose petals. Yasashii pictured himself standing over Shuichi who would draw his knees up and spread his legs in invitation, a soft look of adoration on his face as his stared longingly up at Yasashii. Crawling on all fours onto the bed, Yasashii would make love to his beautiful, angelic singer. It would be soft, gentle and sweet. He would teach the man what it really meant to be in love, to truly have a soul mate.

Yasashii was not aware of when he started it but as he stood in the cool spray of the shower, he found himself making love with his hand. He pumped, jerked and stroked himself with an ever-intensifying vigor as in his minds eye, he saw himself thrusting into the hot, tight cavern between his Shu-han's legs, hearing him moan and cry out in ecstasy.

**Let's reach the top together**   
**One night will never do**   
**An exploding shot of pleasure**   
**Is what I've got for you**   
**Why don't you close your eyes**   
**And let your feelings grow**   
**I make you feel the taste of life**   
**Until your love will flow**   
**Let us find together**   
**The beat we're looking for**

A deep moan gurgled from his throat as with one last thrust, they were both sent crashing over the edge.

Yasashii stumbled forward, catching himself with a hand on the wall. Breathing heavily, he blinked and tried to focus. Masturbating to an image, a fantasy playing in one's head was not as satisfying as the real thing and Yasashii vowed that some day very soon he would have the real thing.

**The rhythm of love**   
**Keeps me dancing on the road**   
**The rhythm of love**   
**Got the grove that hits the bone**   
**The rhythm of love**   
**Is the game I'm looking for**   
**The rhythm of love**   
**Is the heartbeat of my soul**   
**Let us find together**   
**The beat we're looking for**

Shuichi's voice faded into silence. As Yasashii stepped out of the shower, rubbing himself dry with a fluffy white towel, the opening cords poured through the apartment and the song began yet again. “Let's spend the night together…”

 

* * *

 

**NG Productions**

The sun had been up not even for an hour when the twenty-five year old manager and music arranger found himself walking confidently down the empty hallways of NG Productions towards the studio Bad Luck was scheduled to use that day.

Shuffling his briefcase under his arm, he covered his mouth as a yawn that seized him.

Fujisaki Suguru was used to waking at or before dawn. He had ever since his cousin offered him a job as the keyboardist for Bad Luck. He always arrived at the studio before anyone else and he was always the last one to leave. Over the years, he came to like and appreciate the peace and solitude the silence of the building gave him. It was in stark contrast to when the others showed up, especially Shuichi.

The bands lead singer was a character in and of himself. He still looked the same as he did ten years ago when Suguru first joined the band. It was as if the slightly older man had somehow found the mythical fountain of youth. The only thing that had changed was the man's hair. Shuichi had changed his hair more times than Jennifer Lopez had boyfriends. Cruel, but true. It had gotten to the point where everybody started placing bets on what Shuichi's hair would look like that day. When Shuichi found out what they were up to, he at first had been angry, but then he started playing along. Now he came in with the most outrageous hair colors and styles imaginable. Hiro, knowing Shuichi the best, usually won the bets, except for this last time. Nobody predicted Shuichi would go back to his original hair color. He had been all shades of blond, everything from white blond to strawberry blond, several shades of purple, aqua-blue, sea green and everything in-between. One time, he went as far as to stripe his hair like the back of a skunk. Suguru had to admit Shuichi was just as creative and imaginative with his hair as he was with his music.

Adjusting his briefcase, Suguru reached out for the doorknob of the studio door when the handle turned out of his hands. The young manager swallowed a squeak and jumped. His heart leapt in his throat. Sighing, he saw one of NG's janitors standing on the other side of the door.

“Oh! _Gomen nasai_ , Fujisaki-san,” the man cried out, bowing apologetically. “I'm terribly sorry!”

Suguru waved the man's stuttering apology aside. “Don't worry about it…Niwa-san, isn't it?”

The man's eyes widened. “ _Hai_! Yes, Sir,” he nodded, surprised and a little pleased someone of Suguru’s repertoire new his name.

The younger man smiled and stepped aside so Niwa-san could exit the studio. “Thank you, Niwa-san and good day,” he bowed as the man dragged a bulky vacuum behind him down the hall. Suguru shut the studio door behind him as he entered. Setting his briefcase on the couch, he removed his lightweight jacket and draped it on a hook on the back wall, thinking about Niwa-san.

He knew nothing about the man. Nobody did. The man was a complete mystery. He was a hard and diligent worker. He never complained and could put up with all the lunacy that happened on a daily basis at NG. That was a very definite plus for any worker that was hired at the record company, but still, Suguru could not place a finger on what it was, but the guy gave him the creeps. Like that meeting just now. What had the man been doing in the studio with the door closed? If he had been cleaning it, like the vacuum suggested, where had his cleaning cart been? Suguru had not spotted it as he made his way from the elevator to the studio and he definitely had not heard the loud, obnoxious thing.

Suguru snorted and mentally slapped himself. “Definitely spending too much time with Shuichi,” he muttered with a disgusted shake of his head.

For the past month, Shuichi had been in one of his paranoid, schizophrenic moods and when both Hiro and Eiri stopped listening, the singer turned towards the rest of them. Stupid he had actually listened to his rants. Suguru hit himself for that now. Because of that idiot, he was now thinking everyone was out to get them.

“Stupid Shuichi,” he mumbled as he took out the CD-ROM that he had copied yesterday's recording session on from his briefcase.

He had taken it home to work on it instead of staying at the studio as he usually did because by the end of the day, he had had the most painful headache. It had felt as if his head were going to explode. He wondered dryly what--or should he say who--the cause of the migraine had been?

The label on the front of the case read, “Send Me An Angel”. They were doing another cover song for their album. He booted up the computer and slipped the CD into the drive. The sounds of an acoustic guitar accompanied by a light synthesizer in the background filled the large studio as Media Player automatically played the CD. Then Shuichi’s voice filled the studio.

**The wise man said just walk this way**   
**To the dawn of the light**   
**The wind will blow into your face**   
**As the years pass you by**   
**Hear this voice from deep inside**   
**It's the call of your heart**   
**Close your eyes and your will find**   
**The passage out of the dark**

 

* * *

 

Niwa-san heard the strains of the music blaring through the studio door as he walked down the hall dragging the vacuum behind him.

**Here I am (Here I am)**   
**Will you send me an angel**   
**Here I am (Here I am)**   
**In the land of the morning star**

That had been a close one. He always knew that Fujisaki Suguru came into the studio before anyone else but it was not even six-thirty in the morning. What in the world was the man doing here so early? It was a good thing he had had enough sense to bring along the vacuum; otherwise, he would have been in deep trouble.

Sweating bullets, Niwa-san hauled the bulky contraption that was supposed to be a vacuum cleaner into the maintenance closet. With a last look into the hall to make sure nobody had sneaked into the building without him knowing and would surely overhear him, he shut the door and pulled out his phone. Flipping it open, he dialed a phone number he knew from heart and waited for the owner to answer.

 

* * *

 

Rinjin Yasashii was tucking his Bad Luck vintage t-shirt into a pair of old, worn out blue jeans when he thought he heard something over the strains of “Anti-Nostalgic”, an older Bad Luck song.

Buttoning his pants, the man grabbed the remote from the top of the dresser and turned off the radio, the room falling into sudden silence. He cocked his head and listened. The peace was shattered by a lone voice singing a cappella.

_**Karada o tsutau ame ni** _   
_**furueru awai omoi** _   
_**guren no yuuwaku ni** _   
_**samayou yoru ga akera** _   
_**mabushi kiseki o irodoru smashing blue** _

His head shot towards the sound. The light on his cellphone-blinked green as Shuichi's voice repeatedly sang the verse of “Smashing Blue”. He walked across the room and grabbed the phone off the nightstand. He recognized the phone number. He flipped the phone open. The singing stopped in mid-sentence.

“Kakei,” he greeted. “How'd it go?”

“I almost got caught by Fujisaki Suguru.”

Yasashii blinked, taken back. “How?” He sighed, shaking his head. That was stupid question. “Never mind. So, what was the problem?”

“Batteries.”

“Are you serious?” Yasashii laughed.

“Yep.”

“That's good. Thanks. Same spot, same time, same amount.”

“Nuh uh! No way! If it had been something other than a worn out battery…I want two-hundred-thousand more.”

Yasashii sighed, racking his fingers through his hair. “Fine, but only this one time. Next time, you're on your own and shit out of luck. Hear me?”

Kakei sighed irritably. “Fine.”

“Good. Let me know what you find out.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Yasashii flipped his phone closed and set it back down on the nightstand. Standing up, he crossed to his closet and grabbed a belt. Stringing it through the belt loops; he shoved his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans and grabbed his keys and cellphone before heading out.

 

* * *

 

Shuichi was not sure how long he sat there, his head between his knees, waiting for the nausea and lightheadedness to pass, but by the time he finally managed to lift his head and stand up without feeling as if he was going to pass out, the water had turned ice cold.

Knowing Eiri was going to be pissed at him for taking so long and for using up all the hot water, he quickly washed in record time. Five minutes from start to finish. He made a mental note never to mention how fast he had been to his blond lover. The older man would expect Shuichi in and out just as fast from now on, which was never going to happen again. Today had been a fluke. Who would want to stay under the spray of ice-cold water?

Shivering from the lack of warmth, Shuichi slipped quietly into the bedroom and threw on the clothes he had picked out the night before as quietly as he could, trying to give Eiri as much rest as possible. Because as tense and tired as he was after last night, the singer knew his boyfriend would be even more so. What was it he always said? The pitcher got tired during a game.

Shuichi chuckled as he slid into a pair of designer loose blue jeans that were worn at the knees and a white button down shirt over a tight black T-shirt that had a decal of a peeling skull on it. Without bothering with socks, Shuichi yanked the towel off his head and let his long black hair spill around his face.

He glanced at his reflection as he ran a comb through the tresses. Maybe it was time to cut his hair. What should he do to it this time? He would have to ask his hairstylist to surprise him. As he slipped on his watch, he wondered if he would have time before Suguru expected him at the studio to get it done. Even if he did not, he could always make time. They had plenty to do at the studio without him.

He slipped tiny diamonds studs in his ears and was securing his hair at the nape of his neck with a black hair tie when he noticed something on the side of his neck.

Leaning towards the mirror, he tilted his head to the side and glanced out of the corner of his eye.

“What in the world?”

He ran his fingertips lightly over it. A red-hot blush warmed his face as he realized what the mark was. Eiri had given him a hickey and not an ordinary one at that. He was used to having those all over his body and showing them off like badges of honor, but this time Eiri had done nothing less than mark him. The mark was the equivalent to having no trespassing signs posted all over your property with the warning that all intruders would be shot. Shuichi blushed deeply at the thought. Knowing his blond writer lover, Eiri would do just that.

Shuichi caught the huddled form of his lover in the middle of the bed behind him. His smile softened and a dreamy look settled over his face. Sighing, he crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on the lump, shaking it lightly.

“Hmmm. Do you have a death wish?” Eiri muttered softly through the heavy layers of blankets.

Shuichi laughed. “Eiri, I'm heading out.”

“Hmmm,” came the mumbled reply. “What do I care?”

Shuichi chuckled with an amused shake of his head. “At least, give me a kiss goodbye!” When the covers were thrown back, Shuichi gasped. He jumped to his feet. “Eiri! Oh my god! What's wrong?” His lover was as pale as the white sheets he was lying on. His eyes were red and glassy and his nose was running like Niagara Falls.

“What the hell do you think?” snapped the hoarse reply. Eiri shut his eyes, a headache threatening to split his head wide open.

Shuichi crawled across the bed on his knees. He placed a hand on his lover's forehead and cursed. “Shit, Eiri! You're burning up!”

Eiri flopped onto his back and with a dramatic moan. He flung the covers back over his head. “That's what happens when you get sick.”

The singer stared open mouthed in shock at his lover. Eiri had never been sick a day in his life. The guy had an immune system to rival that of the continuing popularity of Bad Luck. Shuichi had no idea what to do. Should he call in sick and stay home to take care of his bedridden lover? Should he take Eiri to the hospital? Maybe he should call up Tatsuha. The younger monk-

“Don't even think about it,” came the muffled retort.

Shuichi blinked. “What? I didn't-”

The covers were thrown back. Eiri pushed himself up and leaned back against the headboard with a groan. “You didn't have to say anything. We've been together for so long; I've developed the ability to read your mind. Not that there's much to read in there,” he added with a smirk.

Shuichi's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Part of him was squealing like a schoolgirl to know that the love of his life knew him that well, but the other half wanted to slam the man into the coffee table just in spite of that insult. “Bastard,” he cried out with a chuckle, lightly punching his blond lover's shoulder.

Eiri rubbed his shoulder. “You call that a punch?” He snorted with a shake of his head. “Pathetic! I've known girls that could hit harder than you!”

Shuichi fumed. Then he got a sly idea. An evil smile lit his face and his eyes gleamed in mischievousness. “Hard, huh?”

With a raised eyebrow, the romance writer watched in amusement as his small lover crawled over him and straddled him. Eiri placed his hands on Shuichi's narrow hips. “May I help you?” he asked with a sniffle.

Shuichi's smile grew. He shook his head. “Nope, but I can help you.”

“Oh? How?”

“You said you wanted it--hard, right?”

Eiri drew his brows down, a mixture of confusion and anticipation battling under his blank face. “You think you can give it to me--hard?” He shook his head. “I don't know about that.”

Shuichi shook his head, that evil expression still on his face. He stood up on his knees and shucked the blankets to the end of the bed. Settling on his hands and knees, he placed his face a hair's breathe away from his lover's cock. He glanced through a shield of bangs that had gotten loose and peered at the older man slyly, a knowing glint on his face. “I never said I would give it to you. I said I can help you get it hard.”

Eiri gulped, already getting hard at the images his little lover was sending into his head. “You're going to be late,” he squeaked.

Shuichi licked his lover's already hard manhood. He chuckled deeply when he heard his sharp indrawn breath.

“You're going to catch my cold,” Eiri tried again.

Shuichi nuzzled his lover with his nose. “What's your point? If I get sick, we can spend all day in bed together.”

Liking the sound of that, Eiri reached out and yanked the band out of Shuichi's hair, letting the long locks fall free. He liked to feel the man's hair over his naked body. “Deal,” he said hoarsely. He grabbed a fistful of his young lover's hair as Shuichi licked his stiff cock.

Shuichi leaned back a little and licked his lips. He stared into his lover's golden hazel eyes. God, how he loved this man!

 

* * *

 

Yawning, Eiri stretched, working the kinks out of his body. Golden hazel eyes fluttered open. Flipping onto his back, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and turned towards the still form besides him.

If anyone called the blond writer soft, that person would soon find him or herself six feet under, but that was exactly how Eiri appeared as he gazed at his sleeping boyfriend. A tender smile on his face, he tucked a stray wisp of hair off Shuichi's forehead. Leaning over, he brushed his lips across his lithe singer's soft lips, still slightly swollen from their earlier excursion. In his sleep, Shuichi groaned and snuggled deeper under the covers, hugging the pillow tightly. Eiri snorted and shook his head.

He caught sight of the alarm clock on the nightstand over Shuichi's sleeping, nude form. It shouted in red, angry numbers that he had indeed made the singer late for work. Feeling pleased and ready to tease his lover unmercifully, he opened his mouth to wake him, but closed his mouth without saying anything, when he saw how peaceful the man seemed. When was the last time Shuichi actually had some good, decent sleep? Every night he had a nightmare or a disturbing dream of some sort. Then at least two times a week he had a night terror similar to the one he had last night. Shuichi woke so often, screaming like someone was attacking him that his bodyguards did not bother racing into the apartment with his gun drawn ready to fend off a psychotic fan or something anymore, which was what the men did the first several times it happened. The neighbors, thinking the same thing, actually called the police the first few times. Now it was so commonplace it became like the boy who cried wolf.

On top of the nightmares, Shuichi has once again been pushing himself past his own natural limits in order to finish Bad Luck’s newest CD in time for its ridiculous due date, an album that not only was far from done, but an album Shuichi had been against from the very beginning. The singer was up every day at dawn, worked non-stop all day long and came home totally exhausted and drained late in the evening, sometimes not even until late into the night or the very early hours of the next morning. He would stagger into the house, without bothering to take off his shoes, and walk like the walking dead to the bedroom and drop dead onto the bed. Then of course, the nightmares would wake him up, interrupting the sleep he so desperately needed. The double whammy was starting to catch up with not only Shuichi, but with Eiri as well. He getting sick for the first time in years was proof of that.

Suddenly, Eiri's face scrunched up. He covered his mouth as a violent sneeze exploded out of his mouth. Shuichi shifted, but soon settled back down, without waking up. Eiri sniffed and quietly slipped out of bed. He pulled on a pair of black jogging sweats he found on the floor and left the bedroom, closing the door silently. He was going to let Shuichi get as much rest as he could. The damned brat needed it.

Crossing the hallway to the bathroom, he searched the medicine cabinet for some cold medicine. Finding some, he swallowed the pills and blew his nose with some toilet paper. After washing his hands, he went into the kitchen.

Propping the door open behind him, Eiri walked straight for the coffee maker, but another sneeze had him sidelining to the stove. Grabbing the teakettle, he filled it with water, set it back on the stove and turned the burner on high. He would like coffee, but tea was better for you when you were sick. He got out a coffee mug from the cabinet and then searched in another one for the tea bags. Finding the squished box behind a box of sugar, which Shuichi called cereal, he took out the last tea bag and placed it in the mug. Making a mental note to tell Shuichi to buy tea when he went shopping, Eiri set the mug on the counter besides the stove.

Sniffing, he cleared his throat and walked over to phone. He punched in a familiar number, listening to it ring.

“ _Konnichiwa_ , NG Productions! This is Naomi speaking. How may I help you?” came a loud, cheerful voice.

Eiri cringed. How he despised morning people. They should all be rounded up, slaughtered, and put out of his misery. How can someone smile so brightly and be so happy so damned early? It was not natural. “Seguchi,” he snapped harshly, his answer to her morning bliss.

The girl blinked. “Excuse me, Sir?”

“Seguchi Tohma,” Eiri repeated slowly. “I would like to speak to him. Tell him it's his brother-in-law,” he continued in that same slow tone, as if he were talking to a two-year-old.

“Oh! Seguchi-sama! Yes, sir, Yuki-san!” There was a short pause. “I, uh, would love to connect you to the boss, but, uh...Seguchi-san has not arrived yet, Sir.”

Eiri raised an eyebrow in surprise. Other than Suguru, Tohma was usually one of the first to arrive in the morning. “Oh?”

“ _Hai_! You see, there was a terrible accident earlier and traffic's-” Naomi blinked and stared down at the buzzing receiver in her hand. “You're welcome,” she snorted. It was apparent the rumors about the blond romance novelist were true.

Back at the apartment, Eiri dialed another number. He could always call the brat's producer, but he could picture that idiot's reaction all too clearly and that was something he did not want to deal with at seven-thirty in the morning. Then there was Shuichi's friend's and fellow band mates Hiro and Fujisaki, but those two would have similar reactions as Sakano, maybe not as overly melodramatic but still annoying as all hell this earlier in the day. There was that Japanese-American guy Michael, but Eiri did not have the guy's phone number. So instead, he called the brat's cousins.

The phone was answered after the first ring. “What?” came a snappish yell over the line.

Eiri blinked. In the background, he could hear the angry cacophony of honking horns. “What the hell crawled up your ass and died?” He assumed the Shiro twins were stuck in traffic, which Eiri could sympathize with, but he was in no mood for this shit.

“Eiri,” Kei guessed. “What do you want?” he barked.

“Give me the phone,” came another voice. There was a shuffling and the traffic noise increased in volume shortly before another male voice came over the line. It was similar to Kei's voice, but not as deep. “Hey, Eiri,” Shiro Kai greeted over the phone. “Sorry. We're stuck in traffic.”

Eiri thought back to what the receptionist was saying before he hung up. “The accident?”

“You have no idea,” sighed the male. “So, what's up?”

“The brat's not coming in today.”

“Shuichi?”

“Do you know any other idiots?” He sniffed. Behind him, he heard the teakettle start whistling. Not wanting to wake up Shuichi, Eiri marched to the stove and turned off the burner. Lifting the kettle, he poured the boiling water into his mug.

“Why? What's wrong? Is he sick or something?”

Eiri shook his head. “No, he's not sick.” He set the kettle back down on the stove and swirled the tea bag around, watching hypnotically as the clear water slowly turned a dark brown color. He held the phone away from him as he sneezed. “Just exhausted.” He sniffed again. Damn cold medicine was not working. Though he had to admit he felt a hell of a lot better than he did an hour ago.

“You alright? You sound terrible.”

“Gee, thanks.” Eiri took a sip of the hot liquid.

“You have a cold or something?”

The writer shrugged. He carried the mug over to the two-seater dining table and sat down. “It's Shu,” he confessed.

The bassist blinked in confusion. “What?”

Eiri sighed. “Shu had another nightmare last night,” he confessed. “He finally fell back to sleep an hour ago and he looked so peaceful, I hate to wake him.”

“Oh. Is he okay?”

“I don't know. I really don't know.”

“Eiri...I really think that you should-“

“I know,” Eiri snapped. He knew exactly what the younger man was going to say. Truthfully, he hated the thought that maybe his sweet, naive Shuichi might be right. It was plainly obvious that the guy was not telling him something, something that was feeding these nightmares. Maybe it was time he talked with Tohma.

 

* * *

 

The green haired manager, arranger and sometimes keyboardist for Bad Luck looked up as the door to the recording studio swung open. He sighed in disappointment as the tall co-founder of the band walked in.

Nakano “Hiro” Hiroshi stopped just inside the doorway and swept his black eyes through the room. “Still not here?”

Suguru set his pen down on the table next to the open file that had the submissions for the cover of Bad Luck's newest album. Three had some potential.

A fan in Hong Kong submitted the first one. It was a black album cover with silhouettes of the band members faces. The second was from one of the employees at NG. It was a collage of the bands previous album covers. A local photographer sent in the third one. It was a never before released photo of the entire band--Shuichi, Hiro, Michael, Kai and Kei and even Suguru himself--taken not too long ago. They were all dressed in black suits, but each was wearing a different color button down shirt. Shuichi was wearing fuchsia. Hiro had on blue. Suguru was wearing yellow. Kai's shirt was green and Kei’s was orange. They looked like a rainbow and considering who their lead singer was, it was somewhat ironic. Speaking of which, Shuichi, unlike the others, was the only one barefoot.   
At the time this was taken, the lithe singer had white hair.

Suguru leaned back on the couch and shook his head. “Nope.”

Hiro raked his fingers through his long reddish-brown hair, sighing. He glanced quickly at his watch before lacing his fingers behind his head.

They all agreed to report to NG an hour earlier so they could go over possible album covers for their next album, Forever Yours, but here it was eight o-clock and they still had not heard anything from their lead singer. Kai, Kei and Michael all called claiming they were caught in traffic and were not sure when they would be in. That was when they heard about the terrible accident. When nobody heard from Shuichi, they feared he was part of that twisted metal mountain, but a quick call from Tohma had their fears dying. If the singer was not part of the accident then he either was stuck in traffic or had “overslept”. Everyone's guess was the latter.

Shuichi being late was not something new and it was not something they worried over. Oh, it got them all angry, especially when they had a scheduled appointment and they were going to be late. But Shuichi now had a cotillion of muscle bound baboons that could bench press a bus in their sleep guarding him. They usually kept the singer on time. Besides, Shuichi was probably on his way to the studio right now and just forgot to charge his cell phone, or add more minutes, which is something he has done in the past. Hiro could picture his friend walking through that door any minute now with that stupidly innocent apologetic smile on his face, bowing like one of those idiotic birds that “sip” water. He had better be. Otherwise, he was a dead man.

“He'll be here,” Hiro said more to reassure himself then anything as he remembered pieces of past conversations with Shuichi. He, like Eiri, believed that Shuichi was over reacting when it came to that neighbor dude of his but now that his best friend was an hour late and had not yet called, he began to wonder...

“He better be,” Suguru snapped. “Our album comes out at the end of the month and we're not even finished!”

“Settle down, Suguru,” Hiro told the young manager. “You know that Shuichi likes to make a dramatic entrance. Besides, he used to be late all the time. Sometimes he came in over five hours late without so much as a phone call. He'll be here.”

Muttering angrily, Suguru stood up. Hiro thought he caught him saying, “If he's not here within the hour, I'm personally going to kick his scrawny ass to Timbuktu,” as he marched to the door. He flung it open with such force he nearly ripped it off its hinges.

“Where're you going?”

“I'm going to go see my cousin,” he yelled. “I have some things I need to discuss with him. At least one of us'll get some work done.” With that, he left, slamming the door behind him, which caused Hiro to jump. Moments later, the door opened again and in walked Bad Luck's bassist.

“Holy Mary Mother of God,” Michael whistled. “What the hell's his problem? He just barreled into me as if I wasn't even there! Jeeze, he looked angry enough to pull the horns off a bull.”

Hiro sighed. “What isn't?”

Michael looked at the man with a raised eyebrow. He slipped out of his lightweight leather jacket and put it on a hook on the back wall. Michael Kagawa-Montgomery was a Japanese-American who had been an exchange student at Tokyo University when he joined Bad Luck. A year later, he married his college sweetheart and now the couple had two little girls, ages six and three, with another one on the way. The guy had black eyes and blond hair just a tad darker than Eiri’s that flowed in luscious waves down his back. He appeared as Japanese as the next guy did except for his hair. It was the only indication that he was not 100 percent Japanese.

One quick look around the studio had him guessing, “Shu and the guys haven't shown up, huh?”

“Kai and Kei are stuck in traffic and Shu...”

“Ah!” Michael nodded. He glanced at his watch. “It's only eight. Why's he so worked up over him being an hour late?”

Hiro shrugged. “I don't know. Truthfully, I think something else's on his mind. He's been a little distracted ever since I arrived.”

Michael plopped down on the couch besides Hiro. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he put his feet up on the coffee table and crossed his ankles. “Why? Any idea?”

“None.”

_“I can't explain it. The guy gives me the creeps.” Shuichi huddled on the couch with his arms hugging his knees to his chest. “It's like that feeling you get when you're home alone and you can just sense that someone is behind you, ya know?” He shivered violently. “I know you guys probably think I'm crazy for saying this, but I think he's out to get me.”_

It seemed as if Shuichi’s paranoia was spreading.

 

* * *

 

The Shiro twins were only ten minutes away from the NG building, but it might as well have been ten hours for all the good it did them.

There had been a crash at a major thoroughfare. One car wanted to turn left and another wanted to go straight. Both tried to make it through the light just as it changed. The result was a mountain of metal in the middle of the intersection, but the fun had not stopped there. Because the traffic light changed just as the two brainless idiots hit. Cars from the other two directions slammed into them. It was a never-ending chain reaction straight out of Blues Brothers where the cop cars just kept coming, the pile of cars getting higher and higher. Now, it looked like a scrap yard had been airlifted and dropped right in the heart of Tokyo.

“Dammit!” Kei slammed a hand against the steering wheel. “This is ridiculous!”

Kai rolled his eyes, shaking his head at his brother. He turned on the radio, flipping through the stations so fast Kei was not sure how his brother could tell if there was anything good on, when a familiar tune caught his ear. He turned up the volume to earsplitting levels.

_**…ataru tabi ni tsuyokunaru kara** _   
_**Kabe o nori koete kasoku suru** _   
**I CAN'T STOP LOVIN' YOU…**

As the song faded, the radio station DJ hollered. “That was Bad Luck with ‘Break Through’ for Koji and Mayumi stuck in that horrible traffic jam in downtown Tokyo this morning. Let me tell you this, guys: if possible, avoid going anywhere near-”

Irritated, Kei flipped the radio off.

“Hey! I was listening to that,” Kai cried.

“And I care because...?”

Kai glanced at his twin and turned the radio back on. He knew why Kei was so irritable. They have spent the past hour and a half in traffic behind an eighteen-wheeler that was shooting exhaust fumes into their car.

“-bonus track on this Two for Tuesday. Here's ‘Spicy Marmalade'!”

The opening cords of the all too familiar tune filled the car, followed by their cousin's voice.

**Spicy Marmalade**   
_**jidai wa marude** _   
_**Urei himeta kao de madowaseru** _   
_**Nani ni furueteru…** _

Kai leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes, letting the song lull him. He ignored his brother's grunts, growling and constant muttering and tried to block out the sound of his fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

Hearing Shuichi's voice hit a cord in the younger Shiro twin. Frowning, Kai opened his eyes and stared blankly out the front windshield. He felt as if he were forgetting something. There was something he was supposed to do, but for the life of him, he could not remember what. “Hey, Kei,” Kai called slowly.

“What,” his brother snapped.

“Did we remember to lock the door?”

Kei blinked. “What? Of course we did! What kind of stupid question is that?”

Kai ignored his comments. “Turn off the stove?”

“Didn't use it.”

“What about-“

“Dammit, Kai!” Kei slapped the steering wheel. “Yes! Jesus fucking Christ! Everything's shut, locked and turned off! God, what the hell's with the paranoid act?”

Kai continued to stare out the window. “I don't know,” he admitted. “It's just...I feel like we forgot something.”  
  
Kei rolled his eyes. He then fixed them on the unmoving, never-ending line of cars in front of them. Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he growled, “This is fucking ridiculous!” Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a reservoir in the middle of the desert. Turning the wheel, he tore out of line with a squeal and crossed over the centerline, dodging and weaving around the cars that had somehow managed to make it past the monolithic accident up ahead and were heading straight towards them.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Kai screamed. “Kei!” He had a death grip on the passenger side door. His eyes were wide in fright. His face was white. “Kei!” He screamed as Kei narrowly missed a semi.

Horns and squealing breaks accompanied Kei's reckless NASCAR jaunt across the street. With a hard yank on the steering wheel that slammed Kai into the door, and some fancy footwork on the pedals, the car spun and slid sideways into an empty parking space along the opposite curb from where they were moments before.

Kei put the car in park and shut off the engine. “We can walk to NG from here,” he announced to his brother.  
  
Pocketing the keys, he made sure his baseball cap was secure on his green apple spiked hair and slipped on his sunglasses. “C'mon,” he told Kai as he got out of the car. He ignored the stares and whispering of the gathering crowd. He was too pleased with himself to care what anybody had to say.

Kai, pale faced, trembled violently. His hands still had their death grip on the door handle. He stared out the front windshield wide eyed. He could not believe what just happened. His brother could have killed them! He really, seriously could have-

“Kei!” he shouted angrily. Forgetting his cap and sunglasses, those things being the farthest things from his mind now, the younger Shiro twin threw himself out of the car. His red and white-blond streaked hair twirled around his face.

Kei gulped when he glanced at his brother. “Ah, shit,” was the only thing he could say.

“You fucking asshole! I'm going to kill you! You coulda killed us!”

Kei laughed nervously and made a show of checking his watch-less wrist. “Hey, ah, look at the time! Fujisaki'll have our hides if we don't hurry.” He tore off the down the street, bumping and running into one pedestrian after another. Angry shouts followed him down the street.

Kai, usually the calm and levelheaded one gave an angry cry and raced after his brother. “Come back here! You ingrate!” As the two boys ran towards NG, that “something” that had seemed so important just moments before was left at the curb right along with the car.

 

* * *

 

**Uesugi-Shindou Residence**

The leather chair squeaked as Eiri sat back, sighing heavily. Taking off his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut.

Slipping his glasses back on, he stared at the computer screen. He cringed when he reread what he wrote. Definitely too much cheese. People would start thinking he was a soft hearted, emotional fool. They already believed he was one of the most romantic men in the world because of his books. If he left what he just wrote in, his reputation would only get worse. The fact that what everybody said about him was true was beside the point.

Highlighting the text, he was about to hit “delete” when a buzzing sound gave him pause. He blinked and glanced at his phone. The small cellphone danced across the desktop. The blinking green light illuminated the side of his laptop. He had turned off the ringers to all the phones in the apartment, including their cellphones because Shuichi needed as much sleep as he could get. There was no way in hell he was going to let anything wake Shuichi up. Eiri blinked at that thought. “Wow, over-protective much,” he muttered to himself. Grabbing his phone before it vibrated right off the desk; he glanced at the familiar number on the caller ID. “About time,” he grumbled. Flipping the phone open, he snapped, “Where the hell've you been?”

“Good morning to you, too, Eiri,” came the soft voice over the line.

“I've been trying to reach you all goddamned morning!”

“So, I've heard,” Tohma sighed. “Eiri, you really have to learn to-“

“Save it, Tohma! I'm not in the mood!” Sniffing, the writer cleared his throat sharply. He reached for his cup and drained the rest of the sweet liquid.

“Eiri? Are you alright?”

Setting his empty cup on the desk, Eiri said, “Fine.” He cleared his throat and then coughed into the crook of his arm. He asked his sister's husband where he has been all morning.

“Well, I didn't get into the office until eight-thirty because of the accident-“

Eiri snorted. Wow! A whole half hour before anyone else, well, except for Fujisaki but that did not count.

“Then Ryuichi, Noriko and I had a photo shoot and an interview for a music magazine. When I finally came into the office, I had a short meeting with Suguru. Apparently, Shindou's paranoia is contagious.”

“I could have told you that,” Eiri snorted.

“In ten minutes, I have one of several meetings that'll take up the rest of the day.”

“You're a busy guy, Tohma.”

The man chuckled. “Not only do I run NG, I'm also one of the top producers-”

The writer snorted again. “If you do say so yourself,” he muttered.

“-and Nittle Grasper is still one of the top bands in Japan,” he continued as if Eiri had not spoken.

“Ya know, it'd be very helpful if one of Japan's top keyboardists had a cellphone,” Eiri suggested sarcastically.

Actually, the man did have a cellphone. Or more appropriately, Tohma used to have one up until yesterday that is when it mysteriously vanished. When Eiri learned the usually clam, cool, collected and in control man misplaced a cellphone, he actually burst out laughing. Anyone would find it amusing to learn that a man who knew everything about everything did not know where a small electronic device was. Just thinking about it had the writer chuckling.

“I do.”

The laughter died on Eiri's lips. “Really,” he asked, sounding doubtful.

“Traffic was so bad, I was able to run into the electronic store and buy one.”

“Uh huh. It would've been nice to know that earlier.”

“You really wanted me that bad, huh,” Tohma teased.

Eiri rolled his eyes and snorted. “You wish.”

Tohma’s chuckle sounded in Eiri‘s ear. “What did you want to talk with me about?”

“Shuichi.”

“You catch a bad case of paranoia as well?” Tohma teased.

“You could say that,” Eiri deadpanned.

“Oh?” Tohma inquired, sobering.

“I want you to do something for me.”

“Name it.”

 

* * *

 

**NG Productions**

“No, Nakano-san, he hasn't,” the front receptionist said.

Hiro sighed. “Thanks, Naomi-chan.” He flipped his phone closed.

Suguru stared at the Bad Luck guitarist. “No luck?”

Shaking his head, Hiro again sighed. It was ten o'clock and Shuichi had yet to make an appearance, let alone call. The mess from the earlier accident had been cleared away and traffic had finally gotten back to normal. Michael, Kei and Kai managed to come in almost two hours ago. Therefore, there was no way Shuichi could be stuck in traffic. That left two options; one, Shuichi had overslept and would be in any time now, or two…

That was something he did not want to think about.

There was a problem with the first option though. If Shuichi was indeed at home, why was he not answering the phone? When, by nine o'clock, the singer still had not arrived, Hiro started calling the apartment Shuichi shared with Yuki-san, but there has been no answer. That could be because the two life partners were currently “preoccupied” and could not hear the phone or…

Once again, that thought was left unfinished.

He hated to admit it, but he was beginning to get a little worried about his best friend. In an instant, the decision was made. Hiro clipped his phone onto his belt and grabbed his jacket.

“Hiro? Where're you going?” Suguru demanded. “We have a deadline-“

“I know,” Hiro told his manager and close friend. “I'm just going to drag Shu out of bed.” He yanked open the door and gasped, jumping when he came face to face with Michael, Kei and Kai. “Scared the shit out of me,” Hiro breathed, placing a hand over his racing heart.

“Got the coffee,” the bassist announced, holding up a cup tray. Michael glanced around the studio as he and the others walked inside. “Shu's not here, yet?”

Kai, who had been walking towards the couch, stopped dead in his tracks as once again he got that nagging feeling that he was forgetting something. It was like trying to grab smoke.

Suguru sighed and shook his head. “I'm just glad Sakano-san is busy helping Predilection with their debut album right now. If he were to find out our singer was over three hours late, he'd have a conniption.”

The others agreed.

“Hey, Hiro,” Kei called after Hiro as the man stalked off down the hallway. “Where're you going?”

“Out.”

Kei exchanged a glance with the others. Kai watched as the man vanished into an elevator. That anxious feeling continued persistently. He wished he could remember what it was he was supposed to do. It was driving him insane!

 

* * *

 

**Uesugi-Shindou Residence**

After hanging up the phone, Eiri wracked his fingers through his hair. Clasping his hands behind his head, he leaned back in his chair with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling. He really could not believe he was even considering the slight possibility that this was more than just a product of Shuichi’s overstressed overactive imagination. Part of him hoped Tohma found nothing and thus able to lay Shuichi’s fears to rest. The other part was not so sure anymore that this was nothing.

His head snapped around when he heard a light rapping on the study door. Before he could say anything, the door creaked open.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

His ashen haired son threw open the door wider and crept inside. “Is Mama awake yet?”

“Not yet.” Eiri tipped his head back and gazed back up at the ceiling. Directly above his study was the master bedroom. It was too bad he did not have x-ray vision. He would love to see the look on Shuichi’s face when he woke up from his nap.

 

**…To Be Continued…**

 

 


	3. Toki wo Koetai

**This I Promise You**  
 **Sequel to:** “My Heart Beats Like A Drum”  
 **Building A Family series**  
 **Written by:** Chochowilliams  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Gravitation or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.  
 **Summary:** Could it be that Shuichi really is just paranoid or is there something about the new neighbor?  
 **Warning:** M/M, Sexual Situations, Romance, Drama, Angst, Fantasy, Infidelity, OOC-ness, Language, M-Preg, Masturbation, Anal, Oral, Minor Character Death, OCs, 1st person POV (Chapter 1), Japan Natives: surname first   
**Pairings:** Shuichi/Eiri, Hiro/Ayaka, Hiro/Suguru, OMC/OFC  
 **Insert:** recap from Chapter 2, “Toki wo Koetai” by Nova Williams (the style of the poem is what is called a villanelle), flashback to “My Heart Beats Like A Drum”  
 **A/N:** Translated, “Toki wo Koetai” means “I want to spend my life that way” or “I want to transcend time”. I have seen it both ways. 

 

* * *

 

**Last Time**

Kai leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes, letting the song lull him. He ignored his brother's grunts, growling and constant muttering and tried to block out the sound of his fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

Hearing Shuichi's voice hit a cord in the younger Shiro twin. Frowning, Kai opened his eyes and stared blankly out the front windshield. He felt as if he were forgetting something. There was something he was supposed to do, but for the life of him, he could not remember what. “Hey, Kei,” Kai called slowly.

“What,” his brother snapped.

“Did we remember to lock the door?”

Kei blinked. “What? Of course we did! What kind of stupid question is that?”

Kai ignored his comments. “Turn off the stove?”

“Didn't use it.”

“What about-“

“Dammit, Kai!” Kei slapped the steering wheel. “Yes! Jesus fucking Christ! Everything's shut, locked and turned off! God, what the hell's with the paranoid act?”

Kai continued to stare out the window. “I don't know,” he admitted. “It's just...I feel like we forgot something.”

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 3: Toki wo Koetai**

**Uesugi-Shindou Residence**

Violet tinted jet eyes fluttered open. Blinking, Shuichi rubbed blurry, sleep filled eyes and yawned. He stretched and gave a sigh. Smiling, he turned towards the other side of the bed and noticed it was empty.

“Huh?”

Propping up on his elbows, Shuichi swung his legs over the side of the bed. When his feet hit the floor, his toes touched something odd. He glanced down and saw a piece of paper. Curious, he picked it up. Centered on the paper in plain font was some writing. Unable to read it in the dark, Shuichi reached out blindly for the table lamp. He blinked, momentarily blinded. When his eyes adjusted, he saw another note taped onto the alarm clock. The red numbers glowed through the sheet of paper.

Setting the note in his hand on the bed besides him, he lifted the paper off the clock.

“Shuichi,” the note began, “You looked so peaceful, I didn't have the heart to wake you, so I called you in.” Shuichi smiled tenderly at the note.

“Oh, Eiri.”

Grinning like a madman, he giggled. The man really did love him! He hugged the note against his chest. Still feeling elated, Shuichi pushed a hand against the mattress. Crinkling had him looking down at the bed and a sheet of paper. Picking it up, he noticed some writing. As his eyes scanned it, tears filled his eyes.

**With a gentle voice whispering, _Suki dayo_ (1), **   
**Those jet eyes gaze down at me.**   
**Eternally will he be my _koibito_ (2).**

**Never again will I be _karano_ (3). **   
**You fill completely.**   
**With a gentle voice whispering, _Suki dayo_ ,**

**A shudder passes through my body. Oh!**   
**How I wish I were that flea!**   
**Eternally will he be my _koibito_.**

**If I could, I’d trap you within my _inro_ (4) **   
**Never to flee from me.**   
**With a gentle voice whispering, _Suki dayo_.**

**With a smile, I whisper back, _Ohayo_ (5), **   
**And we lose ourselves in the rocking sea.**   
**Eternally will he be my _koibito_**

**From you I never want to hear, _Mata kondo_ (6). **   
**Instead, tell me tenderly,**   
**With a gentle voice whispering, _Suki dayo_.**   
**Eternally will he be my _koibito_.**

With a smile on his face, Shuichi felt tears flowing down his cheeks.

He knew that as a writer, Eiri found it, ironically enough, difficult to express himself aloud, which was one of the reasons why he got into writing in the first place. Even though Eiri loved Shuichi more than anything, he found it difficult to say those three little words, but Shuichi did not mind because he understood. Besides, Eiri showed it in dozens of ways each day. It was in the way Eiri looked at him when he thought Shuichi was not looking, the ways his eyes followed Shuichi around the house. Eiri expressed his love by his constant support. He said, “I love you” when he could walk down the street holding Shuichi's hand, or had an arm draped around his shoulders or wrapped around his waist when the two of them were in public. He said it when he allowed Shuichi to cling to him and when he stood by his side through every new scandal the press could sling their way. It was shown when they fell asleep in one another's arms each night and woke up besides each other every morning. Eiri loved him. He always had and would forever. That much Shuichi was sure of. Three simple words did not matter. Anyone could say them. That did not mean that they meant it or even knew what they meant.

Shuichi giggled gaily as he hugged the love poem to his chest. Flipping onto his back, he kicked his feet wildly in the air. Sighing, he flopped back onto the bed. He felt totally spent suddenly. Still smiling, he placed a hand over his belly that was just beginning to swell.

Pushing off the bed and settling into a sitting position, Shuichi’s smile faded. He stared down at his hand that was massaging small circles over his belly. E iri may love Shuichi, but will Eiri still love Shuichi after he learned the awful secret that has been kept from him for the past ten years? Will Eiri accept Shuichi and the child they had created together? Tears burned behind Shuichi’s violet eyes. He brushed them away impatiently and suppressed the tightness in his chest. He cleared his throat of a curious constrictiveness.

_His mother sighed as she too picked up a cookie and bit into it. “I don’t know what to tell you, Shuichi,” she said. “It’s up to you whether to tell him or not.”_

_That was not what he had been expecting to hear. Disappointed, he slumped over the counter with a tired sigh._

_“But I think it’s best to be honest, honey.”_

_With tears in his eyes, Shuichi picked himself up. “But, Mom, what if…?”_

_With a soft smile, Shindou-san reached out and ran a gentle hand through her son’s hair. “If he dumps you then he really wasn’t the one, was he?”_

Today was as good as any. It was time to speak or forever hold his peace. So to speak.

Walking nude to the closet, Shuichi paused as he lifted a shoebox from the top shelf. He frowned. Eiri really wouldn’t break up with him over something like this…would he? There was no way Eiri was so coldhearted or callous that he would dump a lover who was pregnant with his child…would he? Shuichi bit his lip as he set the shoebox on the bed and lifted the lid off. After all, it was not unheard off. There has been a lot of press lately about men doing just that. Dumping their current expectant lovers for someone new. Shuichi was not sure if he would be able to stand that. It really would be the end of his world.

Shuichi sat down on the edge of the bed and reread the love poem. A tiny smile fluttered across his face.

He pushed aside his melancholy. His mother was right. If Eiri would not accept Shuichi for who and what he was, than Eiri really was not the one. Though, Shuichi could not blame Eiri if the blond writer got mad. He would be angry as well if he learned that he had been kept in the dark about something this life changing. It would hurt. His life would come to a crashing halt if Eiri dumped him. But of course, this child, their child would still need him. But was a life worth living if the only thing worth living for was a child whose father despised the ground both mother and child walked on?

But Eiri loved him and Shuichi was certain that Eiri would still love him afterwards. He was also certain that Eiri would love the child they had created together. There was no doubt in his mind.

After a hug and a kiss, Shuichi set the poem inside the shoebox and replaced the lid. Returning the flimsy box to the closet, he noticed a black plastic dry cleaning bag hanging on the back of the door. Another note was taped to it. Curious, Shuichi yanked the note off the bag and unfolded it.

“'Don't ask any questions. Put these on and come to the living room.'”

Shuichi flipped the note over in confusion. The back was blank. What was that supposed to mean? Folding the note, he set it down on the dresser and stared at the black plastic bag, trying to figure out just what kind of game his boyfriend was playing. Taking the hanger off the hook, the singer laid it on the bed and stared at it again, trying to ascertain what Eiri could have left for him to put on.

His curiosity getting the better of him, Shuichi yanked the bag off and tossed it over his shoulder. He gasped as he stared down at the clothes. His hands flew to his mouth and his eyes grew wide. His vision blurred as his violet eyes filled with tears. He swore his heart stopped dead for several long seconds.

“ _Kami-sama_ ,” he whispered, his voice trembling as violently as the rest of him. “ _Kami-sama_. This's gotta be a dream.”

The first thing he saw was a strand of juju beads. This twenty-one bead strand was like a Catholic rosary but shorter and represented Buddha. Next, he saw the white under kimono that was hidden under the haori and tucked into the hakama. White tabi and a pair of zori were in a clear bag hanging from the hanger. The haori was a satiny smooth black silk jacket with a hand painted silk lining of a landscape. The short kimono coat had five little circular motifs woven into the cloth. The crests, he knew, represented the Shindou clan. The black hakama was made of a polyester/cotton blend. Shuichi knew monks wore very similar outfits. Eiri, Tatsuha and their father were monks, so he had seen them in their formal wear countless times, but this time it was different. This particular attire was not for conducting Buddhist ceremonies. No, this outfit was what Japanese grooms wore when they wanted a traditional Buddhist wedding.

At least he knew why Eiri had agreed to let Riku sleep over at his friend’s house last night even though it had been a school night.

He ran a trembling hand over the soft, slick fabric of the haori. “Oh, Eiri,” he whispered. He felt like he was dreaming. If he was, he did not want to wake up.

 

* * *

 

Eiri hated waiting. He was not a very patient person. It was made worse by the fact that he quit smoking years ago. For Shuichi though, he would wait a lifetime, several if he had to.

Even though it was in the middle of the school day, Riku insisted he be here for this. Because Riku was just as bad in his studies as Shuichi used to be when he was in school, Eiri did not want his son to miss school. The boy could not afford to stay home unless he was on his deathbed.

Riku has been bugging him for years, asking him when he planned to marry Shuichi so that they could be a “real family”. He told Riku that same-sex marriages were not legal in Japan--not yet at least--and besides, Shuichi and he did not need to be married in order for the three of them to be a “real family”--whatever that was supposed to mean.

But in the end, Eiri gave in. Shuichi and he have been together for ten years now. He loved the baka more now than he did when they first got together. And even though it would not be recognized legally in the eyes of the law, being married to the love of his life was more than just some piece of paper, or vows and promises made to each other or a ring on their fingers. It was a symbolic joining.

It was thanks to Riku that this day was finally happening. Besides, they were his parents after all. It was only natural that he be a part of this joyous occasion. What would that say about them, if they kept their son from participating or even witnessing their marriage?

There was a noise behind them.

Riku glanced passed his father and up the stairs. He face was a mask of wonder. “Woh,” he breathed.

Eiri turned around. The sight that met his eyes had his heart skipping a beat and had him trying to catch his breath. Standing at the head of the staircase in the five-crested haori and matching hakama, with his hair slicked back into a bun and the beads clutched in his hands was Shuichi. Woh was right.

Shuichi glanced briefly down at Eiri before looking away.

The romance writer smirked. Shuichi was so cute when he blushes. Eiri waited at the foot of the stairs as his boyfriend carefully walked down to him.

Shuichi looked at him, his face as warm as if the sun were in his face. The look on his lover's face was something he had never seen before. His eyes sparkled and smiled. His lips curled into a tender smile. His whole face was soft and had a glow about it, a look that had Shuichi's heart beating double time and butterflies fluttering in his stomach like a swarm of trapped wild birds. His palms were slick with sweat and his mouth was as parched as a desert in a drought.

“Shu-chan,” Eiri managed to croak.

Shuichi blushed and had to look away; he was so nervous he felt nauseous. He noticed Riku standing slightly behind Eiri. The teen had a wide grin on his face. “Riku,” he breathed.

“Mama.”

Eiri stepped aside as Riku stepped forward.

Shuichi pulled his son into a hug.

“You look handsome, Mama.”

“Yes, he does,” Eiri agreed.

Blushing and feeling strangely shy all of a sudden, Shuichi pulled gently away from his son and gazed up at Eiri through his bangs. The writer was wearing an outfit similar to his. His haori was also made of black silk with an intricately brocaded silk satin lining. Unlike the grey-blue of Shuichi's, Eiri's silk lining was a gold color with an open paper hand fan with some illegible kanji, a temple in the countryside and a footbridge. Also like Shuichi's, the Uesugi clan crest had been woven into the fabric. It was worn over a black hakama, tabi and zori. Beads identical to the ones Shuichi was holding were clutched in Eiri's trembling hands.

Trembling?

Closer inspection told Shuichi that his lover looked just as nervous as he felt. He was swallowing and licking his lips constantly. His forehead, upper lip and palm were glistening with sweat. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his heart most likely beating a mile a minute. Just the thought of this usually calm and in-control man just as nervous as him, made Shuichi feel less so, ironically enough.

Taking a deep breath, Shuichi raised his head and held it high, staring at the other man with a tender smile and love shining in his eyes. “Eiri,” he breathed.

In unison, both mean reached out and linked hands. The beds clinked together between their palms. Eiri raised their joined hands and brushed his lips against the back of his boyfriend's hand causing a pink tinge to blush his face.

“C'mon,” Eiri whispered huskily. He had been waiting for this his entire life.

As giddy as a schoolgirl that his parents were finally getting married, Riku followed as Eiri led Shuichi across the Great Room towards the shrine.

The couple made their way toward the glass balcony doors, passing the coffee table overflowing with colorful bouquets of flowers. Their fragrant scent wafted up and enveloped them. Shuichi closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet aroma with a smile. When he opened his eyes, he gasped. Sitting in front of the wall of windows that lead out to the balcony was a shrine with a statue of Shakyamuni, Buddha's first incarnation. He was seated in the Lotus position on a double Lotus pedestal.

“The Lotus symbolizes purity, perfection and divine birth,” Eiri's deep voice informed him, following his boyfriend’s gaze to the altar.

Buddha's hands were held in the mudra of meditation. Surrounding the large image of the developer and teacher of what became known as Buddhism were candles, flowers and incense.

Shuichi felt a fine trembling all over his body and the nervousness returned a thousand-fold. Swallowing, his breathing quickened. He had to fight the urge to race back upstairs and lock himself in the bedroom.

Turning to his long time partner, Shuichi stared deeply into those golden hazel eyes he knew so well. “Eiri,” he whispered. “Please tell me I'm dreaming; that this is some sort of joke.”

This whole thing seemed so surreal. For the longest time, this was what Shuichi has wanted, to be tied forever to this “main man” in his life, the person forever and always number one on his heart chart. Now that dream was finally coming true. The last thing he wanted was to wake up and find out it was all a dream. He expected at any moment a camera crew to come bursting out from wherever it was they were hiding and shout, “Surprise! Just kidding!” That would be worse than anything else he had ever endured. No, if this was a dream, he did not want to ever wake up.

Understanding his baka all too well, Eiri smiled softly and cupped the singer's cheek with his free hand. “No, Shu-chan. It's not a dream and I'd never be so cruel as to joke around about something so sacred.”

Tears blurred Shuichi's vision and rolled down his face. “ _Ai ni natte_ …” he whispered, his voice cracking. With a sob, he shifted and wiped futilely at the waterfall of tears streaming down his face. “I'm falling in love with you all over again,” he cried.

The blond man smiled and brushed his lover's tears away with his thumb. “So am I.” Leaning down, he lightly pressed their lips together, eliciting a tingle through their bodies.

Embarrassed by his parents blatant displays of affection, Riku shifted his eyes away as a rosy tint colored his cheeks. It was something he would never get used to no matter how many years passed. He guessed he should just be thankful that his parents were still together after all of this time unlike his friends’ parents, but still, it did not matter whether they were in the privacy of their own home or in the middle of downtown Tokyo. Uesugi Eiri and Shindou Shuichi just could not keep their hands off each other.

Riku returned his attention to his parents as Eiri gently led Shuichi to the shrine.

It was actually nice to have a shrine in the house. Neither his father nor his mother was very devout people. It was not that they were atheists or even agnostic; they were in fact, pretty spiritual people. It was just that they both led very hectic lives. While he on the other hand went to the neighborhood shrine as often as he could. So, he was happy that there was a shrine here at the house. Maybe he could talk his parents into leaving it up after the ceremony.

Together, his parents knelt before the Buddha figure and clasped their hands together.

Eiri knew the readings and chants both he and his long time partner had to recite by heart but he was not to sure about his intended, so he did a search on line earlier and printed them out, just in case. The sheets of paper were lying on the floor in front of the shrine, but strangely enough, Shuichi did not use them. A s both men started reciting the Vandana, Tisarana and the Pancasila in loud clear voices, Eiri noticed that Shuichi kept his eyes glued to the statue of Buddha. He was curious how his lithe god came to know these particular chants.

He cast Riku a questioning glance over his shoulder, but his son just shrugged.

After the couple was finished delivering the chants, they stood up. Eiri produced his neglected lighter, which had been collecting dust in a draw in the kitchen ever since he quit smoking years ago, from the sleeve of his haori. Using one hand to hold back the long, billowing sleeve, he lit one of the candles. He replaced the lighter and using the lit candle, proceeded to light the remaining ones. The candle light flickered softly against the white marble statue. They then used the flames of the candles to light the incense. Soon, the living room was filled with the strong, sweet smell of the incense. It mingled with the fragrance of the flowers that carpeted the shrine.

Riku sneezed at the overpowering combination.

Eiri turned around.

This was Riku’s cue. He stepped forward and picked up the bouquets of flowers from the coffee table, which he handed to his father. Then he proceeded to sneeze again.

Eiri chuckled lightly. He ruffled the boy’s hair.

“Dad,” Riku whined.

Still chuckling, Eiri in turn handed half of the flowers to Shuichi and together they offered them to Buddha. Then they turned towards one another.

Riku waited anxiously. This was it.

Eiri stared into Shuichi's eyes and grabbed hold of his small hands, holding them gently but firmly within his. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to bare his soul to the person who had captured his heart, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, until death do they part. Uesugi Eiri was ready to make this commitment. “Buddhists believe that all humans are imperfect and that people don't marry other people but instead choose to make a dual pledge to the greater Truth, which is perfect.” Eiri lowered his head, gathering his thoughts. He could not believe that he remembered that. “You know me better than anyone, Shu-chan,” he continued, staring deeply into the violet tinted eyes of his lover and soon to be husband. “I'm not the most devout Buddhist.”

Shuichi snorted. That was an understatement.

Riku laughed, which he turned quickly into a cough when his father threw his a glare.

“Truth be told,” Eiri continued, “it's not who I am. What I am, though, is completely, utterly and inexplicably in love with you. You infatuated me the moment our eyes locked over that drivel you called a love song.”

Shuichi had to smile at that. Eiri had not actually believed his song was that bad, but the famous romance writer had a reputation to uphold. Such a cold-hearted bastard could not be seen having emotions after all.

“Right here, right now, I'm making a pledge, a solemn vow to love, honor, and respect and cherish you. I promise to be forever faithful, to always place your needs, wants, wishes and desires first. This, I promise you.”

With the heel of his hand, Shuichi swiped at the tears that poured down his face. “You have me at a disadvantage, Eiri,” he told the writer. “You've known and have been planning this for _Kami-sama_ knows how long! So you were able to write the perfect marriage vows.” He laughed, sniffing and again wiping his wet face. “I could always recite my ‘expected undertakings'.”

Eiri chuckled. “You could, but which part? Groom? Or--bride,” he teased.

Pretending to be hurt, Shuichi pouted and playfully punched Eiri's arm. “Meanie!”

Riku laughed at his parents antics.

His face becoming neutral, the singer thought back over Eiri and his long and complicated relationship, remembering all the hurtles, hardships and narrow escapes they went through. He remembered seeing Eiri that night so long ago, thinking he was a foreigner who had lost his way. As the past ten years replayed in his head, he knew what he wanted to say. “'You are already a part of my continuing dreams'. ‘I'm tangled up in something' that I can't explain.”

Eiri recognized the lines from one of Bad Lucks songs. Seeing as most, if not all were written about their relationship, Eiri was not surprised that Shuichi would decide to include some of the lyrics with his marriage vows.

“All I've ever wanted was to be close to you. Ever since I saw you at the park that night, reading my lyrics, I was completely taken in by you. It was love at first sight; but I didn't realize it at the time. All I knew was that I could not get you out of my head! I wanted--no, had to see you! I’d become a junkie and you were my drug of choice. Just to be in the same room with you was more than enough. You were ‘a temptation I certainly hadn't expected'. ‘I always want to be with you’. ‘I want to go falling in love with you; even a furious brake won't stop this, no matter who tries to stop me now. Since it gets stronger every time I hit and am hit by the borders of common sense. I'll climb over the wall and speed up, I can't stop lovin' you'. I won't stop lovin' you. This I promise you.”

They stared into one another's eyes, seeing their past, their present and their future.

Smiling, Eiri squeezed Shuichi's hand and produced a small black velvet box from inside the sleeve of his haori. Opening it, he took out a gold ring and hid the box inside his kimono sleeve.

Eiri lifted Shuichi's trembling hand. Lifting his head, he watched entranced as a large tears slipped down his beloved’s flushed face. A soft smile flitted across his lips. Locking their gaze together, he slipped the golden circle onto the slender finger. Without breaking their gazes locked together, Eiri raised Shuichi's hand and kissed the ring lightly. “Daisuki dayo,” he whispered. “I love you so very much.”

Shuichi raised his hand and gasped, his other hand covering his gaping mouth in shocked awe. With wide eyes, the singer stared at the ring on his finger. It was the most beautiful and exquisite piece of jewelry he had ever seen. Jewelers and sponsors had given him jewelry over the years for one thing or another, but this made everything he ever received look a little girl's collection of colored plastic.

“Oh, Eiri,” he whispered with fresh tears rolling down his cheeks.

He glanced up at the writer then back down at the ring. He wiggled his spread fingers. The light streaming in through the glass balcony doors hit the ring and a prism of color danced before his eyes. The wide gold band had a sunken square section on the top in which sat nine .03-carat gems. The eight on the outside were black star black opals that reflected a mysterious brown star when held in the light. The ninth gem, in the center, was a dazzling Princess cut deep rich rose pink Sri Lanka spinal. As the streaming midmorning sun glanced off it, a stunning fire burst to life within it.

“It's beautiful, Eiri,” he whispered.

Riku recognized the ring immediately. It was the ring his father showed him a while back when they were laying out the plans for the commitment ceremony.

Eiri sniffed. Half was due to the damned cold he woke up with this morning and the other fifty percent fingered the look on the smaller man's face.

With his little baka staring at him like that, he felt as if everything was right with the world. A weight he had forgotten was even there was lifted from his shoulders. He felt lighter and happier than he could remember being in a very long time. The tears that flowed down Shuichi's face made that look even more angelic. It made him even more beautiful. “This ring has been in my family for generations,” he explained. “It originally belonged to my great grandfather who passed it on to his oldest son who did the same thing when his son became of age. My father gave it to me when I became a full fledged monk.” He took Shuichi's hand and massaged it gently, staring at the play of light.

Shuichi blinked in surprise. He glanced from the ring to his husband…

Shuichi paused. Husband? He suddenly felt giddy. He could never fully understand what it meant to be ‘on cloud nine', but he was filled with such a feeling of euphoria and rapture that it felt as if he had died and gone to Heaven. However, the fact that he and Eiri were bound together as close as any two people could get did not mean that the man had to give him a ring that has been in the Uesugi family for over a century. It was just too much. He shook his head. “Eiri, I can't accept this!”

Eiri's face fell.

“It's too much! It should-“

“-stay in the family,” Eiri finished for him with a smirk. He exchanged a knowing look with Riku. Eiri pulled his new husband into the circle of his arms and hugged him tight. “Shu, Shu, Shu! You are my family. Don't you know that?” Pulling away so that he could stare into his vivacious violet eyes, Eiri smiled. “I love you more than anything in this world and I'll do whatever it takes to get you to stay by my side forever. I want to let the whole world know that you are mine, now and forever.”

Riku felt tears prickle his eyes.

Shuichi had always heard that the eyes were the window into a person's soul. Everything was laid out in the open. There were no secrets. As he stared in those deep golden hazel eyes, Shuichi felt himself melting. The large, thickly muscled arms wrapped around him made things low in his body tighten. He wanted these arms around him always. This was the face he wanted to see whenever he turned around. This was the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. With a sob, he flung himself at his husband, hugging him tightly.

Eiri hugged him back and felt something hard jabbing into his side. “Shu-chan, baby. Is there something in your kimono or are you just happy to see me?” The last was said in a low, lust-filled voice.

Riku retched. Oh, God. Why was it that he had been cursed with these particular parents?

Shuichi blushed and stepped out of the warm, comforting arms of his husband. He suddenly felt cold without them, but knew that he would soon be back in them. Those large hands would be all over his body, probing, poking and thrusting. Shuichi shuddered violently and had to fight to keep himself from moaning at the images his thought produced. He reached inside his under kimono and grabbed a small velvet box. To Eiri he suddenly looked like Napoleon with his hand stuck under the haori like that. “Actually…I, um…”

“What?” Eiri prodded with a raised eyebrow.

Pulling his hand out, Shuichi laid it flat, revealing a black ring box similar to the one Eiri had kept Shuichi's wedding ring in. He avoided the man's curious and penetrating gaze.

Riku’s eyes went wide. Was this the “surprise” that Shuichi said he was planning for Eiri for their anniversary?

“Shu? What…?”

“This weekend is our anniversary.”

Eiri nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“It'll be ten years.”

“I know,” Eiri said, nodding slowly. “That's why I decided to organize this. I wanted this year to be special.”

Shuichi nodded. “So did I,” he whispered. He opened the ring box.

Eiri stared wide eyed at the contents of the small black box. “Shuichi…”

“I had it all planned out. I made reservations at this restaurant in Yokohama and then…”

“Then what?” Eiri prodded.

Once again, Shuichi's face grew warm as a hot blush spread across his entire body.

Eiri looked down at the ring again. Had Shuichi planned to ask for his hand in marriage? He could not hide the shocked expression on his face. “Oh, Shuichi.”

Shuichi plucked the ring out of its box and gently handed the velvet container to Riku. He took Eiri's left hand and carefully slipped the gold ring onto what was known as the heart finger, the one finger that was said to have a vein that went all the way to the heart. He was not sure if the one shaking was he or Eiri. He was not sure if he cared.

Eiri lifted his hand and studied the ring. The wide band was made of gold with an inset 3 carat elongated oval Australia Tiger's Iron. It was a stunning rich, vivid chocolate brown black with blood red and metallic deep gold yellow veins. “It's beautiful, Shu.”

“Seguchi-san helped me pick it out,” Shuichi confessed, blushing.

“Tohma did?” Eiri asked in surprise.

Shuichi nodded, his blush deepening.

“He knows?” The writer groaned inwardly. Tohma was never going to let him live this down. It will not matter that Eiri had beat his lithe baka to it.

Again, Shuichi nodded. “He helped me with the planning.”

Chuckling, Eiri drew Shuichi into a tight embrace. He smiled, breathing in his sweet strawberry scent. He used to believe it was the shampoo Shuichi used, but he has grown to realize that it was just Shuichi's own natural scent. At first, Eiri thought it was a little strange, right along with his bright pink hair, girlish frame, his insistent chatter and annoying clinging and unrelenting cuddling, but now all those idiotic characteristics was what made Eiri love the singer.

Eiri pulled back just enough so he could look deeply into those unnaturally, natural eyes. He wrapped his arms tightly around Shuichi's tiny waist as the singer ran his small hands up and down Eiri's spine. They stared deeply into each other's eyes. “I may not say it every five seconds like someone else I know…”

Shuichi's face grew warm.

Riku chuckled.

“But I love you, more than anything.”

Riku wondered if it was possible to be grossed out and in awe at the same time.

Shuichi rose up on his tiptoes while Eiri leaned down. It was just a light brush of lips but it sent shivers through their bodies. They pulled back in unison and opened eyes neither one could remember closing. As they gazed into one another's eyes, their heads slowly dipped, their eyes fluttering closed.

A sudden angry shout caused them to jump apart like guilty lovers.

Eiri groaned with a curse.

“Daddy,” Riku called softly.

“Stay there,” Eiri ordered his son and husband as he strode through the apartment to the front door.

Shuichi did not argue. The yelling was getting louder and it sounded like there was a little scuffle going on. He was curious about what was going on, but he had learned long ago to never disobey an order given to him by Eiri. He did however strode over to Riku and wrapped the boy in his arms, which was strange seeing as his son had grown taller than him over the course of the summer.

Eiri meanwhile yanked open the front door with enough force to rip it off the hinges. “What the hell's going on?” he demanded angrily. The sight before him stilled him momentarily. The bodyguard had a redheaded guy on his knees, his hands trapped behind his back. Eiri smirked with a small snort. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the doorframe. “Nakano. What do you think you're doing?”

Shuichi and Riku exchanged a look.

Shuichi stepped away from his son and started across the living room.

Hiro struggled against the iron grip. “Where is he?” he demanded.

Eiri raised an eyebrow.

“I'm sorry, sir,” the bodyguard apologized. “He insisted that he see Mr. Shindou but you said-“

“Let him up,” Eiri said, waving the guys explanation aside.

“Sir?”

“It's okay.”

The man in black let go of the guitar player and stood back. Hiro slowly stood up, wincing. “Where's Shuichi?” he repeated.

“Inside,” Eiri answered with a ‘where else would he be' tone.

Fuming, Hiro pushed past the writer and strode inside the apartment.

“Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

“Sir? Do you-?”

Eiri waved the man off. “I'll handle it.” He stalked into the living room, slamming the door behind him; an angry remark ready on his lips but it died a quick and sudden death as he saw the co-founder of Bad Luck pull his hand back. The silence was shattered as the sharp slap of flesh on flesh resounded through the room. The writer was shocked to a standstill.

“Mama,” Riku cried out. He raced across the room and grabbed onto his mother’s arm. “Mama! Are you okay?”

Shuichi was holding his newly jeweled left hand over his reddened, stinging cheek, his eyes wide in shock and dismay. Slowly, he turned back to his best friend. A tear rolled down his face. “Hiro,” he breathed, still not believing what just happened. “What-?”

“I can't believe you! I thought you were better than this!”

Shuichi could only blink.

“You skip work to hang out with your boyfriend? When you knew our deadline is fast approaching?”

“But Uncle Hiro-” Riku started to say, but Shuichi motioned him to remain quiet.

Shuichi glanced at Eiri briefly who was standing on the other side of the room. He gave him blank eyes, just as confused as he was. He wanted to explain to Hiro that there must have been some sort of miscommunication, but when he opened his mouth to inform the man just that Hiro cut him off with an angry yell.

“No! I don't want to hear any excuses! Do you have any idea how worried we were?” Hiro counted on his hand. “You don't show up, call or pick up the phone when I call! All these thoughts kept going through my head, Shuichi! I tried to tell myself that we were just missing one another, that you were sick and couldn't pick up the phone! Maybe you were fucking your boyfriend and couldn't hear the phone.” He shook his head. “Then what do I see?!” He pointed a finger at the apartment door. “I step out of the elevator to see your bodyguard! And do you know what he tells me?”

Riku cowered behind Shuichi. He had never seen his mama’s best friend like this before.

Shuichi wanted to say something, but was unable to form one coherent thought. His best friend's angry words shocked him into silence. Never before had he yelled at him like this, never before had he been this angry with him. He wanted to defend himself and his decisions, but could not do a damn thing, but stand there like an idiot and let him continue with his rant.

“He has the gull to tell me that you aren't to be disturbed!”

“Hiro,” Shuichi finally managed to say, “I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you worry, but you see, Eiri and I-”

“Just drop it!”

“But-“

“No!” Hiro's hand snapped out and grabbed Shuichi's haori, jerking the smaller man to him so they were nose to nose.

“Mama!”

“Dammit, Shuichi-”

Before Hiro could finish that thought, he found himself lying flat on his back staring into the contorted face of one outraged romance writer, trying to catch his breath.

Eiri twisted the collar of the guitarist white shirt, not caring if in the process he choked the man to death. Nobody touched his Shu-chan and lived, nobody but him and God himself. He pressed his face into Hiro's, steam practically pouring out of his ears and nose. He glowered hostilely at the red head. His fingers itched to pummel this man into the wooden floor until even his own mother could not recognize him, but for the sake of his Shu-chan, he had to try to sustain himself, but it was hard. “How dare you lay a hand on what belongs to me,” he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper. Eiri knew that if he spoke any louder, what little restraint he had would snap, he was that close to losing it. “I should beat you into a bloody pulp!”

“Daddy,” Riku whispered.

Hiro could feel the writer's weight compressing his chest, making it difficult to breath. The collar of his shirt was now a noose, tightening centimeter by centimeter. “But you won't,” he croaked.

Eiri pushed his face into Hiro's so they were nose to nose. “And what makes you say that?”

Seeing the love of his life this close to killing his best friend snapped Shuichi out of his shock induced haze. He knew Hiro hated him because he had not shown up for work today and made him worry unnecessarily. He knew that and he could not blame the man. He could also understand why Eiri was so angry. The writer was extremely over-protective when it came to his family. If anyone laid a hand on the singer or their son, Eiri went berserk. But Hiro hating him and alive was one thing, but hating him and dead was something he could not handle. At least with him alive, they had the opportunity to work things out, but if Eiri were to kill him...

The thought of his best friend in the whole wide world never flashing those pearly whites at him, or hugging him, or going out with him after work sent a cold chill down his spine. He wanted to walk into the studio and see Hiro on that stool of his plucking at his guitar. Shuichi wanted to be able to go to him whenever he and Eiri had a fight. He wanted his best friend's strong arms to comfort him when he cried. He wanted what they always had but if he did not snap his husband out of it, all that was going to be over.

Shuichi rushed forward and slid to his knees besides his lover. Grabbing a fist full of his haori in each hand, Shuichi buried his face in the man's shoulder and sobbed.

If Eiri did this then not only would he lose his best friend, but he would lose Eiri as well. The police would arrest him for murder and that would be the end of their fairy tale romance. There was no way he would be able to raise their children all by himself. He could barely take care of himself as it was. The thought of never seeing his new husband again froze his blood and stopped his heart. As much as he hated to admit it, losing his husband was more painful than losing his best friend. Friends drift apart. They come and go, but losing your soul mate was one of the most painful things a person could go through. “Please, Eiri! Please! I don't want to lose you! Please!”

Eiri slowly blinked as Shuichi's words filtered through the wall of anger that had built up around him. His grip on the man underneath him, loosened. Sitting back, he turned towards the smaller man and suddenly found himself flying onto his back. He hit the floor with a painful thud. He gritted his teeth and hissed.

“Daddy,” Riku gasped. He rushed forward and threw himself at his father.

Grunting as the wind was knocked out of him, Eiri patted his son on the back lightly.

Coughing and rubbed his sore neck, Hiro stood glaring at the downed writer who was currently being strangled to death by his son.

“Eiri!”

Blinking, Hiro watched as his beat friend crawled towards his lover with tears racing down his face, which was a mask of concern. The anger Hiro felt towards Eiri diminished, replaced by a weird sense of lose. Shuichi was more worried about the slim possibility of losing his boyfriend than in the very real fact that that man had been this close to choking him to death.

Hiro had never really liked the writer. Firstly, the man had taken away from him the most important person in the world. Then the famous womanizer had been a complete and utter asshole towards Shuichi, kicking him out and breaking his heart time after time. Because of him, Shuichi had been gang raped by Aizawa ten years ago. The last time Eiri had broken up with Shuichi, it had sent the young singer fleeing to the States. Hiro had almost lost him for good. Nothing good had ever come out of that relationship.

“-hate you.”

Hiro shook himself loose from his thoughts and turned towards his best friend.

“I hate you!” Shuichi looked up from where he was glued to his lover's and son’s side, his face as wet as if he splashed it with water. Sniffing, he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his haori, his eyes glaring with something Hiro had never thought to see directed at him. Hatred. “You ruined everything! Everything!”

“Shu-“

Shuichi sobbed violently, his body shaking uncontrollably. “This's supposed to be the happiest day of my life and you ruined it!” He unsteadily got to his feet. “You come bursting in here with your fucking accusations without a thought. You didn't even give me a chance to explain myself!”

Hiro realized the singer was right. He had not let Shuichi tell his side of things. He felt like such a heel.

Keeping Riku behind him and out of harm’s way just in case the shit hit the fan again, Eiri slowly got to his feet and laid his hands on Shuichi's shoulders, trying to calm the singer down. He had never seen him this angry before. It was unsettling. “Shu-“

Shuichi brushed his husband's hands off and stalked towards his so-called best friend. “I hate you, Hiro! You totally ruined everything! I'm never going to forgive you for this! Ever!” He turned on his heels and stormed up the staircase, disappearing into the master bedroom and slamming the door behind him hard enough to shake the apartment.

For the first time in who knows how long, Hiro felt like crying. His chest and throat tightened with the effort of trying to keep the tears locked away.

“I want you out of here, Nakano. Now! If I ever see your face again...”

“Yuki-san-“

“Forget it. There is nothing I want to hear that will come out of your mouth. Jacob,” Eiri called.

Immediately, the front door opened and the tall, broad American appeared. “Mr. Uesugi?”

“Nakano-san is leaving. Make sure he gets to the elevator in one piece.”

Jacob nodded. “Certainly, Sir.” He stepped aside and waited patiently for the red-haired guitarist to proceed.

Just as Hiro stepped out of the apartment, his cellphone rang. Pausing, he unclipped it from his belt. The number on the faceplate startled him. “What is it Kai? I'm really not-“

“I forgot!”

“Forgot what?” Hiro asked with a sigh. He really was not in any mood for this.

“I was supposed to tell you something when I got into the studio this morning, but with the accident and Kei...”

“What're you trying to get at, Kai?” Hiro was tired. All he wanted to do was go back to his place and sleep. Hiro glanced over his shoulder at the writer who had not moved an inch from his position in front of the shrine. Shrine? He had not seen that earlier. When had Shuichi and Yuki-san set up a shrine? He glanced back at the writer, his face a mask of confusion. He noticed that the man had a carefully blank expression on his face.

“Did you hear me, Hiro?”

“Huh? I'm sorry, Kai. What did you say?”

“I said Eiri called me this morning to let me know that Shu wasn't coming in today. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but I forgot. What with the accident and Kei...” He sighed. “I don't remember the reason, but-“

“What!? You forgot?”

“I said I was sorry, Hiro. I had-“

Hiro growled and paced several steps in an angry whirlwind, dragging his fingers through his hair. “Dammit,   
Kai! Do you have any idea what the hell you just did?”

“Me? I didn't do a damn thing. You were the one who left in a huff.” There was a pause and then, “Don't tell me you-“

“Thanks for nothing, Kai.” Hiro flipped his phone closed with a curse.

A disgusted snort from behind him had Hiro twirling around to face a smug looking writer.

“Nice, going, kid,” Eiri said from the other side of the doorway. “You alienate not only one, but two members of your band. Maybe next time you should think before you act, huh?”

Hiro stepped forward. “Look, Yuki-san-“

“Save it, Nakano. I don't think any of us wants to see your face for a while.” Stepping back, he slammed and locked the door on the stunned guitarist.

What had he just done?

 

* * *

 

He stood at the foot of the stairs with one hand on his hip and the other fingering his hair. With a sigh, Eiri gazed up the staircase at the closed master bedroom door. This was definitely not his forte. Even after all of these years with his baka, he still was uneasy and unsure how to comfort the singer when he was this way.

“Dad?”

Eiri turned at the sound of his son’s voice.

Riku stood besides his father and gazed uncertainly up at his parents’ bedroom. Biting his lip, he looked back at his father.

Eiri rubbed lazy circles on his son’s back in an effort to calm the boy down. “They fight all the time,” he reminded Riku.

Riku nodded. He knew that, but this time seemed different from the others.

“Why don’t you go play video games, or something,” Eiri suggested.

His son still looked uncertain, but nodded almost reluctantly.

Eiri ruffled Riku’s hair before starting up the stairs.

Worried, Riku watched him go.

“Riku,” he called over his shoulder when he was halfway up the stairs.

“Yeah?”

“Your uncle Hiro is Shuichi’s best friend. They’ll get over this and be back to normal in no time.”

Riku could only nod. He wanted to believe his father. He really did.

 

* * *

 

With his hands on the doorframe, Eiri sighed heavily and leaned his forehead against the closed door of the bedroom. He felt his heart breaking as he listened to the wailing sobs. He hated it when Shuichi cried. It always made him feel useless. He never knew how to handle all those tears, those eyes that pleaded and begged for his comfort. It made him very uncomfortable when his little baka turned on the water works factory. What was supposed to do, to say? He was no good at this kind of stuff.

At first, it used to be a coping mechanism. He used to, and still did, have a hard time getting close to anyone. It was a deeply rooted fear. His mind cautioned him that it would just end in disaster, but despite it all, Shuichi somehow made it through the numerous layers of defense surrounding his heart. The little baka sunk his claws into him and refused to let go. Shuichi was a crocodile with a fresh kill, either that or a yo-yo or boomerang. No matter how far he was thrown, he always came back. Now Eiri could not imagine his life without him. But he still had no idea how to handle Shuichi when he cried, especially now, when it was painfully clear a friendship that lasted over twenty years and jumped every considerable hurtle unscathed was over. Eiri could not help but feel partially guilty for that. And as he told Riku, the two were always fighting. Shuichi and Hiro were best friends after all. They will work things out, maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but eventually. He was certain of it.

Taking a deep breath, the romance writer straightened and steeled himself. Quietly opening the door, he called into the darkness, “Shu-chan?” He walked into the room and shut the door. Even in the twilight of the room, Eiri knew where he was going. He walked nearly blind and sat on the edge of the bed, feeling it sink under his weight and clasped his hands between his knees.

“Why does he hate me?” came the sobs muffled under the thick layer of blankets.

Eiri did not have to ask to know who “he” was. “He doesn't hate you, Shu.”

“Yes, he does,” the singer sobbed.

“Shuichi,” Eiri sighed. “You and Hiro are best friends. You’re practically Joined at the hip. No matter what stupid or idiotic thing you say or do, he always manages to forgive you and stay by your side. Isn't that right?” He took his husband’s silence as confirmation. “Yes, the two of you’ve had your moments, but nobody can stay mad at you for very long. You're like a magnet. You attract everyone. You make everyone smile and laugh, even when they're in the deepest, darkest pits of their emotions! Take it from me, I know.”

Shuichi sniffed and flung the covers off his head. Slowly sitting up, he stared down at the comforter, his violet eyes shining with unshed tears. His jaw trembled.

Eiri had been expecting the smaller man to throw himself at him, but Shuichi stayed on his side of the bed, miserable. “Shu?”

“Are you sure, he doesn't hate me?”

“He was just worried. Apparently, there was some miscommunication at the studio. He doesn't hate you. Don't worry so much.”

Shuichi nodded. He knew Eiri was right, but he could not get his best friend’s accusations out of his head; they played in an endless loop. What he said hurt a lot. The man may have had good intentions, but that did not help the singer feel any less bitter or disappointed.

Eiri watched and studied his significant other. Shuichi could never hide anything from anyone. His emotions played on his face so clearly it was like watching television. Shuichi had gotten a little better over the years, but he was a far cry from having a cop face. Eiri could be wrong, but he was guessing his tiny lover was having a hard time making up his mind about something.

Lifting his head, Shuichi stared deeply into Eiri's face. “Make love to me?” he asked quietly. He just wanted to forget everything and lose himself in the sensation of being with the man he loved more than anything in this world.

A soft smile lit Eiri's face. “Your wish is my command.”

Shuichi crawled out of the covers and knelt before the blond writer who turned to lay a folded leg on the bed. Eiri cupped the smaller man's face. His thumb brushed away a stray tear. Leaning forward, he lightly rubbed their lips together.

Shuichi sighed. This was heaven.

“Shu.”

“Eiri.”

Eiri captured his lover's lips with his own, using a gentle play of lips, teeth and tongue to make love to his husband's mouth.

Moaning, Shuichi crawled into Eiri's lap. He wrapped his arms and legs around Eiri and hugged him tightly as Eiri's tongue explored the dark, wet cavern with patience and finesse, caressing his baka's tongue with sweet compassion and tenderness. Shuichi snaked his tongue into his husband's mouth, exploring and caressing every wet inch. He rubbed their tongues together; petting it with sure, soft strokes. When they pulled away, both were panting heavily. Staring deeply into one another's eyes, they smiled.

With his hands cupping the smaller man's face, Eiri pressed their foreheads together and chuckled. “Baka.”

“Pervert.”

“Bitch.”

“Bastard.”

“Whore.”

“ _Watakushi no kokoro_.” **(7)**

Shuichi opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out. “Cheater,” he accused.

“You're just mad because I won.”

“You always win.”

“Damn straight,” Eiri whispered huskily.

Shuichi blushed.

As his prize, Eiri grabbed Shuichi's lips. His tongue poked at the locked lips, licking along the crack, asking silently for entrance. Giving it, Shuichi opened his mouth wide, allowing Eiri's tongue to plunge inside. Their tongues battled for dominance. Since Shuichi was better at the game now than he used to be, nobody won. When Eiri’s tongue retreated, Shuichi's followed, ravaging his lover's mouth. They sucked and nipped at each other's lips. Shuichi's fingers played with Eiri's hair as he kissed the man deeply and passionately, wanting to delve deeper into him.

Eiri's hands caressed Shuichi's side, roaming up his chest to his shoulders. He pulled off Shuichi's haori, tossing it over his shoulder, and Shuichi did the same with Eiri's. Leaving a trail of wet kisses along Shuichi's jaw and neck, paying close attention to the mark of ownership on the singer's neck, Eiri slid the white under kimono off the tiny shoulders and let it pool around Shuichi’s narrow waist. As Eiri kissed his way down Shuichi's small but well built and toned chest, Shuichi laced his fingers in Eiri's blond hair and made small noises he knew turned the other man on.

The writer kept one hand placed on the small of the singer's back and used the other to tweak and grope the sleeping nipple while he kissed the other one. He twirled his tongue around the wakening bud, sucking it like a babe suckling its mama's tit, eliciting one sharp cry after another from his husband. Eiri felt his cock hardening as the room filled with the moans and mewling of his husband. Eiri bit the perk nipple, causing Shuichi to give a yelp and arch his back.

Panting heavily, sweat already dotting his forehead, Shuichi breathed, “ _Suki dayo._ ”

“I know,” Eiri whispered as he laid Shuichi gently back on the bed. He straddled Shuichi’s hips and paid the neglected nipple the same attention he gave the other. Clasping Shuichi's hands together in his larger one, Eiri held them captive above Shuichi's head. The singer wiggled a little underneath him as he tried to get comfortable. Eiri grunted as their hardened lengths rubbed together in the process. The romance writer charged forward and made his conquest, sucking and biting his husband's mouth.

“Eiri,” Shuichi moaned into the man's mouth. He arched his hips, rubbing his hardening cock against that of his husband's. Eiri ripped his mouth away and tossed his head back, letting out a deep groan.

Growling, Eiri glared at the smaller man beneath him. Letting go of the small confined hands, Eiri tore at Shuichi's hakama. He tossed it aside with the rest of his own clothes.

Shuichi watched his older lover with hungry eyes and licked his lips. A tiny growl escaped his lips.

Eiri pounced onto his lover and kissed his deeply as if he was trying to eat his mouth. He ground his hips against Shuichi's effectively rubbing their erections together.

Shuichi wrapped his legs around Eiri's waist in order to press the elder male closer into him. “Eiri, I want you!”

Reluctantly, the writer released himself from the human leech and rooted around in the nightstand until he found what he was looking for. Turning back around, he licked his suddenly dry lips and stared at the sight that greeted him like a hungry man at a buffet. Shuichi's legs were bent, his knees pointing at the ceiling, and spread open wide like a mouth at a dentist's office. His member was standing at attention. Crawling onto the bed, Eiri flicked the cap off the lube and coated his fingers. Using his body to open Shuichi's legs wider as he crawled closer to what was now and forever his, he used his free hand to lift the smaller man slightly, while he gently slipped a coated finger into the small entrance waiting enticingly for him.

Shuichi gripped the sheets tightly until his knuckles turned white, soft gasps escaped through parted lips. He tossed his head back, arching his back off the bed, and gave a sharp cry as the intruder brought along with him a friend. They slipped inside, driving deeper and harder. He soaked up the pain and transformed it into the greatest pleasure man or god could ever know. His mewls increased, his pants filling up the silence of the apartment. His hold of the bed sheet tightened.

And just like that, he was empty. Opening eyes he could not remember closing, Shuichi stared between his legs at his husband.

“Eiri, what-?” The rest of what he was going to ask was silenced as his husband filled him up completely. Shuichi tossed his head back and screamed.

Eiri paused when he felt himself hit the end. With his hands holding him up above his lithe baka, he looked at the sweat-drenched man underneath him. “Are you-?”

Shuichi shook his head. “Don't-don’t stop Eiri--please,” he panted.

And he didn’t. Eiri did not stop loving Shuichi. He took everything Shuichi had to give and gave Shuichi all he had in return. Beneath him, Shuichi's breathy moans and soft mewling was nowhere to be heard. As Shuichi was rocked, in his ecstasy-induced fever, he cried out incomprehensibly above the squeaking of the mattress and the constant bangs of the headboard as it slammed over and over again against the wall.

Almost too soon, Shuichi felt the pressure and heat building up inside of him. He felt himself rising to the top of that mountain peak and exploded over the top with a shrill cry. Eiri followed his partner up that mountain trail, feeling the change in pressure. Moments later, and with one last hard jab, burst over the mountaintop.

Both men were breathing hard, their hearts beating rapid tattoos in their chest.

His arms and legs feeling like rubber, Eiri pulled out of his lover, who moaned in disappointment at the loss, and flopped onto his back besides him.

Shuichi cuddled up to Eiri, wrapping his arms and legs around him. “I love you, Eiri.”

Eiri smiled tenderly into the darkness, hugging his husband tightly to his side.

Shuichi sighed contently. This was how things should always be. Lifting his head, he peered down at his husband, who appeared to be sleeping. Sleeping? No, no. Sleeping was something the singer would not allow, at least not tonight. Grinning evilly, Shuichi straddled his husband, surprising the man. Golden hazel eyes snapped open and studied the tiny man above him.

Eiri grabbed Shuichi's waist. “What're you doing, Baka?”

Leaning forward, Shuichi whispered, “Taking advantage of you.”

“Really?” Eiri asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh huh.”

Shuichi captured his lover's lips with his own, using a not so gentle play of lips, teeth and tongue to explore Eiri's mouth greedily. He wanted him. He always wanted him, but Shuichi felt like a dehydrated man in a desert. He just could not seem to get enough of this man. Pulling away, and panting slightly, Shuichi and Eiri stared deeply into each other’s eyes. What they saw was reflected in both their eyes, utter trust and a love so strong, come hell or high water, they would forever be locked in the endless dance of their romance.

They kissed, hard and wanting. Lips parted and tongues plundered each dark, wet cave, battling like gladiators. Teeth bit and nipped. Lips suckled and pulled. It turned them both on. Eiri moaned into his husband's mouth as he felt Shuichi grab his already throbbing erection. He returned the gesture by running his hands up the man's narrow but well toned chest, splaying his hands over nipples still hard from their last rumble. Eiri broke the kiss and grabbed his husband's hands that were stroking him to ripeness. Shuichi moaned in disappointment.

Grinning, Eiri flipped them over and pinned the singer once more to the bed. He knelt between slightly parted legs and kissed and lightly nuzzled Shuichi's jaw and down his neck. He was rewarded by the man's pleasured gasps. These sounds caused Eiri to grow even harder.

With his pants increasing and sweat dotting his skin, Shuichi flipped them over so that he was straddling Eiri.

Eiri blinked in shock and confusion. What just happened?

Shuichi grinned down at him evilly. Licking his lips, he rocked his hips over his husband's engorged member. Eiri moaned loudly in reaction. Shuichi smoothed his hands up Eiri's arms, over his wide shoulders and down his chest, pinching his lover's nipples as he passed them. Shuichi blew into Eiri's belly button. Chuckling as Eiri wiggled underneath him. He licked the sensitive, taut skin around the hole before plunging his tongue inside. He kissed his way up his writer's flat stomach to his chest. He tweaked and groped the sleeping nipples. He twirled his tongue around the wakening bud, sucking it, pleased when he heard the low growls emanating from his husband. Shuichi felt himself going crazy as he heard the pleasured remarks from the man underneath him. He bit a perk nipple, which caused Eiri to arch his back and toss his head in pleasure. Shuichi paid as much heed with the other one.

Then Shuichi crawled down Eiri's body to his toes. Rolling his eyes up to watch his husband's reactions, he climbed up his husband’s body like a cat, letting his hands trail from his toes and up his foot to his ankle. Up Eiri’s muscled calves towards his knees then up his thighs to cup the throbbing member between them. His hands teased and caressed, all the while keeping his eyes plastered to his husband’s erotic masked face.

Eiri drew in shallow breath after shallow breath, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He arched, pushing his hips harder into the hands jerking him off.

Bringing his face down, Shuichi rubbed his face against the man's arousal. He took it into his mouth, welcoming the familiarity of it.

“Oh, _Kami-sama_ ,” Eiri moaned.

Shuichi sucked on the hard cock in his mouth. His other hand fondled Eiri’s balls and teased his bottom. As his husband continued to moan in pleasure, Shuichi probed his husband with his fingers. Eiri bucked against him, his fingers tangling themselves in Shuichi's hair raven locks that somewhere along the line escaped its bun. Shuichi did not stop torturing the man until he felt muscles tense and freeze. His lover climaxed with a loud cry. Shuichi drank him in as he watched and felt the body beneath him relax. He moved back up Eiri's body and kissed him fiercely.

Eiri licked the inside of his husband's mouth, tasting himself within its dark, wet confines.

Their hands roamed over each other’s naked body. Fingers pinched, groped and teased.

As they continued to devour each other, Eiri reached out blindly, searching until he found what he was looking for. He slipped it into Shuichi hands.

The singer glanced at the tube in his hand and stared at his husband questioningly. He knew what he wanted, but the question was would Eiri let him? “Eiri...”

The corner of his lips curled into a smile as Eiri covered his husband's smaller hand over the bottle. His other hand helped to pour the messy goop onto slender fingers. Setting the bottle on the bed and out of the way, Eiri positioned Shuichi's coated hands at his entrance.

This was a dream come true for Shuichi. He was rarely given the chance to bottom. Eiri was the alpha--the dominate one--in this relationship. Besides, he preferred and enjoyed being the one of the bottom. He loved the feel of the love of his life filling him and loving him. “Eiri? Are you-?”

“Baka, I want to feel you inside of me.”

Bending over, Shuichi kissed Eiri chastely on the lips before stroking his lover's bottom, probing him, preparing him.

Eiri grabbed the bunched up sheets by his head and bit his lip as pleasured moans threatened to spill from his lips. He bucked slightly off the bed. “Shu,” he moaned.

Loving when the man said his name in pleasure like that, Shuichi continued to tease the older man.

“Oh, _Kami-sama_ ,” Eiri groaned. His eyes dropped shut and his breathing hitched. Sweat dotted his brow. “Mmm!”

Shuichi loved when their roles were reversed. It did not happen often enough in his opinion. He chuckled when he heard the disappointed sigh when he sat back. Grabbing the nearly empty bottle, he coated himself, hissing as his hand worked over his neglected penis. Eiri complied swiftly when told to turn over. Shuichi had to admit, he liked this submissive side of Eiri.

Eiri in turn was in love with this demanding, domineering side of his husband.

A hand on Eiri's shoulder and the other on his hip, Shuichi slid smoothly inside his husband, awakening more moans and cries.

Eiri grabbed himself and began masturbating as he felt his tiny lover thrusting in with enough force to rip a startled cry from his lips and then sliding back out almost torturously slow.

Shuichi loved the tight feel of Eiri around him. He found a rhythm rather quickly and soon both men lost themselves in the intense pleasure that coursed through them. Their mingled cries filled the twilight-strewn bedroom. All too soon, Shuichi felt muscles tightened around his cock, which caused him to groan in reaction, as Eiri's climax drew near. He pumped into the tightness of his husband with long, deep, hard thrusts. They both made pleasured noises as their lovemaking reached its pinnacle, both of them crying out loud and long.

Eiri collapsed onto the bed and grunted as he felt his singer pull out of him and flop on top of him.

Shuichi cuddled his writer, hugging him from behind and sighed contently. “I love you,” he told his husband with a huge yawn.

Flipping onto his back, he wrapped his arms tightly around Shuichi and rubbed his face in the man's hair. “I know.”

Both men fell into a deep slumber, smiles plastered onto their faces.

 

* * *

 

**Rinjin Residence**

Restlessly, Yasashii paced his apartment. He walked from the front door through the living room and down the hall, passing the bathroom, into the kitchen where he rounded the kitchen table and walked back down the hall to the living room. He spun on his heel and re-walked the path. By now, he had worn a groove into the hardwood floors.

Growling, he glanced at his watch for what seemed like the zillionth time.

He did not understand. It was nearing two o'clock and his Shu-han had yet to leave for work. The band was supposed to have had a meeting at seven this morning to go over the artwork for the cover of their new album. After that, there were still a few songs that needed the kinks worked out. Forever Yours was a double CD. The first disk contained Bad Luck's greatest hits, going back to their debut album. The second disk contained cover songs from various artists from all over the world. There were several live bonus tracks from various live performances over the years, several included duets with Nittle Grasper. There was also an extra special bonus track of the original version of “Rage Beat” recorded from Zepp Tokyo with a special appearance by Ryuichi Sakuma. So, why had his angelic singer not left? Was he sick?

Yasashii stilled with a horrified expression on his face. “Dear Kami,” he whispered. His lithe, graceful singer who looks like angel when he is sleeping, a sex kitten on stage--even though he does dress like a slut--was sick! Maybe even dying! Dying? No! That cannot be happening! They just found each other! How can the gods conspire to work against them like this?

The man found himself at the front door of his apartment before he realized what he was doing. It took everything he had to keep from racing down that hall and flinging himself at the singer. That was what he should be doing, though. It was obvious that perverted monster was not taking care of Shuichi. Why? Because that damned womanizing romance author did not care about Shindou Shuichi! No. All that bastard wanted was a hole to fuck and Shuichi was just a convenience! The thought of that monster taking advantage of such a sweet guy sent a surge of rage through Yasashii. His hands became balls of fury. His teeth ground together hard enough to chip a tooth.

That was the last straw!

Anger blinded him. He reached for the door and flung it open. He started to march out into the hallway but the sight of a dark suited foreigner gave him pause. His fury drained away. Stepping back into his apartment, Yasashii closed the door and peered out at the Uesugi-Shindou apartment through the crack.

The man was Shuichi's bodyguard. An American, if he was remembering correctly. His name was Joshua, or Jeremy or something stupid like that. Truthfully, he looked more like a Butch, or a Frank or something with a little more punch. The bodyguard had graying light brown hair, but physically he looked as strong as five oxen. He was as wide and as tall as the door he was standing in front of. His stance was that of a typical bodyguard clichéd in every television show, movie and book. His feet were a shoulder's width apart and his hands were clasped in front of him, one hand holding the wrist of the other.

Bodyguards first started shadowing Shuichi’s every move after an “overly enthusiastic” fan somehow managed to sneak into the showers after one of their concerts several years back. Apparently, the guy believed he was in love with the singer and tried to seduce him but when his advances were shot down, the man attacked him. After that, Shuichi never went anywhere without at least one bodyguard. Yasashii had to hand it to the man. As well as the other guy, a tiny Japanese man. Whatever his name way. Kousuke? Kiba? Something like that. Shuichi’s bodyguards did their job well, maybe too well. He has not been able to get within ten feet of his beloved since that first day. But Yasashii was going to be damned if this moronic foreigner and his partner was going to keep him away from the singer.

Yasashii felt his anger take hold of him once more.

He had to see Shuichi; he had to no matter what!

Once more, he grabbed the doorknob but this time the familiar a cappella dulcet tones of his future lover rang through his silent apartment. Sighing in frustration, he snatched his phone from his belt. A familiar number showed on the screen. Even angrier now, Yasashii flipped the phone open and snapped, “What?”

“Bloody hell, Yasa. Bite my head off why don't ya,” came the voice over the line.

“What do you want, Niwa,” Yasashii snapped.

Niwa Kakei-san, in his pea soup jumpsuit, pushed the broom across the floor in the waiting area by the front lobby of NG Productions. In order to call Yasashii for an update, he had been forced to take out the earpiece that was connected to the small boxlike transmitter in his pocket. The transmitter allowed him to hear what was going on inside the studio upstairs, all thanks to the bug. Unfortunately, the listening device had conked out yesterday. Thankfully, a quick change of batteries was all it took to get the bug up and running again.

“Just wanted to check in,” Niwa answered with a blink. What was Yasashii so mad about?

“That's it? You bothered me just to ‘check in'?”

Niwa blinked at the man's tone. “Hey, just doing what you pay me for.”

Yasashii growled. “I pay you to keep me informed with what's going on! And so far, you haven't been doing your job!”

“That's because nothing's going on!”

Yasashii was the one startled at Niwa's tone this time. Sighing, he felt his anger dwindle. He walked to the wide bay window and stared out over Tokyo. “Okay, tell me what is going on.”

“Nothing much, just a lot of yelling. Apparently,” Niwa sighed, “Shindou-san-”

“-didn't come into work today. I know. I know,” Yasashii finished in a rush. He walked to the door and peered out. The bodyguard had not moved an inch. “I live next door to the guy, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Niwa-san had forgotten. How he could have was beyond him. The guy was totally obsessed with the singer. The extra bedroom off the living room was a shrine to the singer. It was filled with all kinds of memorabilia from key chains, dolls, and clothes Shuichi himself had worn. He had every single magazine, book, newspaper and tabloid paper that featured Shindou Shuichi in any form. Every radio and television appearance was recorded and catalogue meticulously. There were boxes of photo albums filled with concert stubs, backstage passes and autographs. He had every CD and single ever released, legal and bootlegged, from all over the world. There were official Bad Luck clothing--shirts, pants, socks, et cetera--and accessories of every imaginable type in that room. The man had even somehow collected locks of the singer's hair that he kept in a shoebox. He also had a habit of going garbage picking, where he found broken and discarded jewelry and other things from the famous front man. If it had the name Bad Luck on it, had been touched or breathed on or had been in the very presence of Shindou Shuichi, Rinjin Yasashii had it. The only thing the man did not have was the singer himself. That was where Niwa came in.

The two men had known one another since high school. When Niwa became financially strapped, Yasashii made him an offer he could not refuse. Get a job at NG and plant a few listening devices. Yasashii wanted to bug the singer's home but because the singer's lover worked from home, it was practically impossible. Then Yasashii became fortunate enough to rent the apartment right next door to the singer, so the mechanical device was no longer necessary, though there were times when Yasashii wished he had.

At first, Yasashii's obsession had just been a normal infatuation, a man with a crush on an entertainer, but then the shrine developed, the listening devices were planted in order to help the man “accidentally bump” into the singer and then there was the photographer. Yes, Yasashii even hired a freelance photographer to follow Shuichi. This guy--Niwa never met him--was somehow able to get pictures of the singer that would make every tabloid newspaper drool with envy and every porn magazine whipping out their checkbooks.

Niwa was beginning to regret accepting this job. This little “infatuation” was getting out of hand, but he could do nothing. He was in it too deep now. What was that saying? No use crying over split milk.

“Shuichi-sama hasn't left his apartment all day,” Yasashii was saying.

Niwa nodded. He replaced his broom in the cart and swept the small pile of debris into the dustpan and then disposed of it in the garbage. “Nakano and Fujisaki-san were, well, livid to say the least, but since they're used to Shindou-san being late, they gave him a few hours.”

“Yeah,” Yasashii prodded.

“By ten, he still hadn't shown up, so Nakano-san called.” Niwa shook his head. “They called him for over an hour, but Shindou-san didn't pick up his phone and nobody answered at the apartment.”

Yasashii frowned. He could not remember hearing the phone ring next door. He wondered why. Was it possible they turned off the ringers? But why would they? What was going on over there?

“That got them a little worried, ya know?” Niwa continued, bringing Yasashii out of his thoughts.

“Understandable,” Yasashii agreed with a nod. “You expect someone at a certain time and when they do not show and do not answer the phone…”

“Well, Nakano-san went to see what was going on, if they were at home, or…”

“They” referred to both the singer and his damned writer lover, Yasashii knew. Just the thought of that whore Shu-han called his “soul mate” sent a resurgence of anger through the man. Then what his old friend said hit him. “He was here? When?”

“Uh…” Niwa scrunched his head in thought. “About eleven, eleven-thirty.”

That would explain it. The stupid building's property owner called him to ask if he would let the meter guy into the basement and of course being the “gentle neighbor” that he was complied all too readily.

“Well, I guess when he noticed Shindou-san's bodyguard outside the apartment,” Niwa was saying, “he became furious! I'm not sure what happened exactly, but Nakano-san returned to the studio pretty pissed off. They're not exactly happy with Shindou-san right now.”

“Mm…” That made Yasashii think. What was going on over there and could he use it to his advantage?

 

**…To Be Continued…**

  
**(1)** “Suki dayo” – Japanese colloquial expression for “I love you”  
 **(2)** “Koibito” – Japanese for “lover/sweetheart”  
 **(3)** “Karano” – Japanese for “empty”  
 **(4)** “Inro” – small case hanging from the obi (sash) of a traditional kimono.  
 **(5)** “Ohayo” – Japanese for “Good morning”  
 **(6)** “Mata kondo” – Japanese for “See you later”  
 **(7)** “Watakushi no kokoro.” -- Japanese for “My heart”

 

 


	4. Just Beware The Thorns

**Chapter 4: Just Beware of the Thorns**

**The Next Morning - NG Productions**

“…That's alright. What have you got for me? ... Yes, I was stuck in it.” The producer and keyboardist of Nittle Grasper raised an eyebrow and leaned back in the desk chair. “And?” Tohma's eyes widened. “… Are you sure? ... Oh? ... What?!” He shot forward. “Where is he now?” he demanded. “…What? Shit. ... Who spoke to him? ... I want to speak with him. … Why not? ...” Tohma sighed heavily and pressed a finger into his throbbing temple. “… I would really appreciate it. Thank you very much. … Thank you. No, that is it. Goodbye.”

Tohma replaced the receiver and leaned back in the leather chair. Lacing his fingers under his chin, he stared blankly at the wall. Why was it whenever you took one-step forward you were forced to take two back? When Eiri asked him to look into this Rinjin Yasashii guy, he had not expected it to go this far. How had he not seen this?

A knock at the office door snapped him out of his retrieve. “Yes?”

The door opened and his green-haired cousin stuck his head in. “Tohma? Are you busy?”

Tohma smiled at the younger man. “Not for you, Suguru.” He waved his hand towards a chair in front of his desk. “Please.”

Suguru strode into the office, shutting the door behind him. He sat down in the chair indicated by his cousin.

“I'm actually glad you're here,” Tohma told the younger man. “I made some calls and discovered some things about Niwa-san.” He picked up a manila folder and tossed it gently across the desk.

The manager of Bad Luck picked it up and flipped it open.

“It seems Niwa-san went to school with none other than-“

“Rinjin Yasashii,” Suguru read in surprise. He stared up at his cousin in genuine shock. Then a flash of doubt crept into his eyes. Shaking his head, Suguru continued flipping through the slim folder. “Coincidence.” He could not believe that it was anything other than that. If he did, the guilt that he had been trying to suppress would eat at him.

“Maybe. Maybe not. What I found interesting is that they lost contact after they graduated. Niwa than joined the military-“

“'Special ops',” Suguru read.

Tohma nodded. “After serving the required stint, he was contacted by his old friend. The following week, Niwa had a job as janitor here at NG and Rinjin moved into the apartment next to Eiri's.”

Suguru tried to absorb everything being thrown at him. It was a little too much. “It doesn't prove anything except that Shuichi's paranoia is contagious.”

“Possible,” Tohma agreed with a nod. “But if it is, then it's an epidemic.”

“Huh?”

“Eiri called me yesterday and asked me to look into his neighbor, Niwa's best friend.”

Suguru was surprised that such a grounded person like Yuki-san would fall for Shuichi’s antics. “I thought-“

Tohma nodded. “Apparently Shuichi's been having terrible nightmares-“

“Still?”

“'Still'?”

Suguru closed the folder and rested it on the desk. “For the past month, he's been saying how Rinjin-san creeps him out and he was always talking about these night terrors.”

Tohma cocked an eyebrow. “Was?”

“Only Kei, Kai and Michael were taking him seriously. He only talks to them and because neither I nor Hiro did, he clams up when we are around.”

Sitting back, Tohma steepled his fingers as he lost himself in thought. Combined with what he just learned from a valuable source at the police station, he was becoming a little antsy about this whole situation. It was beginning to seem as if Shuichi might not be his usual paranoid self. “I think-”

A knock on the office door startled the pair.

“Enter,” Tohma barked.

An older male with grey hair and stained overalls entered the office, his eyes darting nervously. “Gomen, sir, for disturbing you, but-“

Tohma waved his apology aside. “It's alright, Kitagawa-san. What can I do for you?”

“Uh, I found something you should take a look at.”

The cousins glanced at one another.

The men followed the senior janitor through the empty halls of the NG building, stopping outside an all too familiar studio.

Suguru blinked. “Wait a minute! This's…!”

Kitagawa-san led them to the studio that Bad Luck usually used. Suguru bumped into Niwa-san yesterday morning out of this same studio. Why had Kitagawa-san led them here?

The elderly gentlemen opened the door to the studio and escorted them inside. “I was cleaning and dropped my rag. When I bent to pick it up I saw this black box--thing.” He pointed to the control panel.

Dropping to their knees, Suguru and Tohma sprawled under the control panel. Immediately, they saw the small black box. Suguru had no idea what he was looking at, but Tohma knew immediately what it was and had some inkling where it came from. All the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place.

“That's not the only one.”

Tohma scooted out and stood up, his cousin soon followed. “What?”

“I found one in there,” Kitagawa said, pointing through the Plexiglas window into the recording booth. “I didn't think anything of it, until I saw this one.”

Suguru was confused. “Tohma?”

“Find Niwa-san,” the blond-haired producer told the janitor. “And if a man comes in with a package for me, bring him up to my office immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” Kitagawa bowed and left the studio.

Suguru turned towards his cousin in growing confusion. “Tohma? What's going on?”

“We shall see, Suguru.”

“Huh?” He had absolutely no idea what was going on, but he had a feeling he was not going to like it.

 

* * *

 

**Uesugi Residence**

“Shu I'm leaving!”

Shuichi stuck his head out of the shower, his head full of suds. “Be careful! I love you!”

Eiri smiled. “Love you, too.”

“Oh! Eiri!”

Eiri stuck his head back inside. “Yeah?”

“Riku leave yet?”

“He just left with Jacob.”

“’Kay.”

“See you later.” Leaving the overly humid bathroom door open so his husband--Eiri's smile widened and a slight blush tinged his cheeks--could hear the phone if it rang, the writer dashed through the dressing room and flew down the stairs to grab his wallet and keys off the table near the front door. He had a meeting with Mizuki to talk to her about postponing a few things and then he had to talk to their lawyer and publicist. It was going to be a very busy day.

He nodded to the scrawny Japanese male standing at the front door as he left. Matoh Koji was the night guard. From eight at night until eight in the morning, he was the only thing standing in the way of a crazy stalker fan and Shuichi. When Eiri first met him, he thought it was some kind of joke. This “bodyguard” was no more than a boy. He was so young he was still breaking out. This kid did not look much stronger than Shuichi and looked like he weighted less when wet. However, the kid had proven himself. He made Jackie Chan and Jet Li look like amateurs.

“Uesugi-san! Sir,” came the yell behind him. “Shindou-san-”

“Eiri,” came the familiar whiney-shout.

Turning around, the writer saw his husband of eighteen hours standing in the doorway of their apartment, dripping wet, in nothing more than a bathrobe. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a blush tint the young guard's face. Growling, Eiri marched down the hall and grabbed Shuichi's arm. “Baka! Are you trying to get sick?” He dragged the man inside the apartment.

A huge grin split Shuichi's face at the blatant jealousy and possessiveness he could hear in his husband's voice.  
  
Eiri pulled Shuichi into the living room where he immediately pulled the wet, nude-except-for-a-bathrobe man against him.

Shuichi wrapped his arms around Eiri's neck and pulled their heads together for a short, chaste but tender and spine tingling kiss.

Moaning against the soft, lush lips, Eiri held the singer against his pulsating body. His hands roamed to cup the round globes of Shuichi's ass.

Shuichi mewled deeply from the throat. “Stay and make love to me,” he demanded softly, nipping along Eiri' jaw line to his neck.

Groaning, Eiri tried with no enthusiasm or effort to disengage himself from Shuichi. “I can't,” he whispered breathlessly. “I have to meet Mizuki.”

“Fuck your editor,” Shuichi growled as he licked Eiri's collarbone before suckling it.

Eiri was having a hard time thinking, but that was probably the whole point. Shuichi was not nor has he ever been innocent. He was a seductress through and through. “Shu-Oh! Kami-sama,” he cried as his husband licked his sensitive ear.

Shuichi was determined to find a way to keep his husband home at least for another hour or two. He rubbed his growing erection against his husband's bulging pants. Both men filled the room with pleasured cries.

Eiri wanted nothing more than to stay home and fuck his little baka until he was too sore to move, but unfortunately, he had a lot of work to do. Reluctantly, he pried himself away.

Shuichi growled. Anger flashed in his eyes.

Eiri sighed heavily. “Shu, we both have very busy schedules, today. I have to see if Mizuki can juggle a few things around so that we…” He wrapped his arms around his singer. “…can go…” He pulled him against him. “...on our honeymoon.”

‘Honeymoon'.

That one word echoed in Shuichi's mind. A wide grin splayed across his face. “We're going on a honeymoon?”

Eiri looked at the small man with a raised eyebrow, staring at him with a look that said, “Are you always this stupid?”

Knowing that look, Shuichi slapped Eiri who gave a mock yelp of pain. Grinning like a lunatic, Shuichi wrapped his arms around the writer and hugged him happily. “Where're you taking me?”

Eiri shook his head. “You'll just have to wait and see.”

Shuichi pouted. “Meanie. You're no fun.”

“Oh, I can be LOTS of fun,” Eiri said suggestively, wiggling their bodies together. With a quick, lighter than a feather kiss, Eiri pulled away. “But not right now.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to go meet Mizuki, before she-.” The sudden shrill ringing of a phone cut off the rest of what he was going to say. Eiri let go of Shuichi and searched his person for his cell. “Where-?” He looked up to see a familiar silver instrument dangling in front of his face. “My phone! Where…?”

“You left it in the office.”

Snorting at his own stupidity, Eiri checked the caller ID. “Speak of the devil.” Flipping his phone open, he placed it to his ear and just as he opened his mouth to speak, an angry stream of curses jetted forth. Eiri pulled the phone away from his sensitive ear and wiggled his finger in it as Mizuki continued to scream and yell.

Chuckling, Shuichi kissed his husband lightly on the cheek before sauntering back upstairs to finish getting ready. He could feel Eiri watching him. He grinned mischievously over his shoulder and put a little more swagger into his walk. Eiri was looking at him like a hungry man at a banquet.

Eiri sighed as his lithe baka vanished into their bedroom. “Are you quite done?”

“No, I am not! How dare you leave me waiting this long?”

“What the hell are you talking about? We agreed to meet at eight and that's in an hour.”

Mizuki stopped in mid-yell. At the outdoor dining area at the café, she blinked. “No, we did not. I clearly remember,” she said, getting out her daily planner and flipping it to the correct day, “talking to you yesterday morning and-” Her tirade stopped suddenly as her finger ran down the long list of scheduled appointments. Right there in bold red ink and circled was her meeting with Eiri at--eight am. “Oh.” Now she felt like an idiot.

Eiri snorted. “I might be a little late. I have to talk to my lawyer about a few things first.”

“Lawyer? What-?”

“You'll know soon enough.” Before the woman could say anything else, Eiri ended the call by flipping his phone closed. “Shu! Shuichi!”

The singer walked out of the bedroom towel drying his hair and leaned against the railing. His heart skipped a beat when he felt the banister give slightly. That was right. Riku said something about that awhile back. They really had to get someone to take a look at it. Maybe his father could do it.

Eiri drank in the sight of him. Shuichi was wearing an unbuttoned pair if jeans and nothing else. Eiri admired the view of his lithe husband very much. Especially the tantalizing view of the wispy black hairs between the open flaps of Shuichi’s jeans and what it meant. He gulped. Was it suddenly hot in here?

Shuichi started going to the gym several years ago. For two hours a day everyday, he worked out. He was not trying to bulk up, but instead has toned and sculpted his slender body. Shuichi has gone from cute to drop dead gorgeous. It helped that he lost all his baby fat and actually grew another several inches. But lately, he has noticed that Shuichi seemed to be putting on a few extra pounds. He wondered if he should ban the baka from his diet of junk food.

Despite that though, Eiri would give anything to carry Shuichi into the bedroom, rip off that hindering piece of cloth and see just how toned his husband had become and where. Eiri swallowed painfully. His pants had suddenly become a little too snug.

Shaking himself from his lustful wanderings, he told the man he was leaving.

“Alright,” Shuichi sighed, crestfallen.

Eiri chuckled. “Just go to the studio, talk to Hiro and I'll talk to Tohma later about giving you time off so I can take you on our honeymoon.”

Shuichi's face instantly brightened. “Okay! I'll see ya later! I love you!”

“Me, too.” Eiri opened the apartment door and glanced at the singer one last time over his shoulder. “Remember, Shu. Talk to him. You've been friends for a long time. Don't let this misunderstanding get in the way of that.”

Shuichi nodded. When the door shut behind Eiri, the smile vanished.

He knew what happened the night before was just a big misunderstanding. He really did not hate Hiro. He could never hate him. As Eiri said, they were best friends. Always have been. Always will be.

No, his big blow up yesterday and reluctance to go into work again today had nothing to do with that. It all went back to his fears and worries about not only this unexpected pregnancy, but also his new neighbor who everybody kept saying was a “really nice guy”. Add to that an unwanted CD and Shuichi felt as if he was on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

For the past ten years, it has been the same thing. They work like dogs to put an album out, with him doing at least ninety percent of the work--and no that was not an over exaggeration either. They work six, sometimes seven, days a week. There are photo shoots, interviews, and television and radio appearances. When the album is finally released, they go on tour. At the end, they are rewarded with a mere month off and it starts all over again.

Shuichi just could not do this anymore. He could not. He felt tears slip down his face.

 

* * *

 

His hair was pulled back in a ponytail. A pink and white bandana was tied around his forehead. A black leather belt cinched the waist of his jeans. A T-shirt under a black vest showed off his muscular frame. His hands brushed lightly over the baby bump that was still nearly invisible.

A small smile graced his lips.

Lifting his head, Shuichi stared at his reflection in the mirror above the dresser. His violet eyes were dull and distant. His normally tan complexion was pale. His lips were slightly colorless and he had huge bags under his eyes. As he was putting on his necklace, he noticed his hands were trembling. He held them out in front of his face and watched them almost hypnotically. Clenching them into tight fists, Shuichi took a deep breath and sighed.

Well, it was now or never.

Grabbing the cowboy hat Ryuichi had bought for him during his last trip to the US, he popped it on and stampeded down the staircase. He slipped into his boots and picked up his backpack from the floor near the front door. Swinging it onto his shoulder, he exited the apartment and started towards the elevator. A quick glance at his watch told him he might actually be on time today.

He was halfway down the hallway when he realized something was wrong. Stopping, he glanced over his shoulder down the hallway--an empty hallway. His eyebrows drawn in confusion, he started back towards his apartment. “Koji? Jacob?” He knew Jacob had taken Riku to school, but he should be back by now. A shiver ran down Shuichi's spine. He did not like this. He had a very funny feeling.

“Hello, Shindou-san.”

Shuichi turned, expecting it to be Koji or Jacob, but instead he gasped. He took a step back as a figure stepped out of the shadowy doorway. “Ri-Rinjin.”

The singer continued to back away slowly. His heart was racing. It was beating a rapid and uneven tempo against his breast. His breath came out in wheezing pants. He was dry mouthed and his palms were slick with sweat. He was shaking violently and his stomach was churning. Saliva filled his mouth like a leaky faucet. He swallowed sharply. His ran his tongue along lips gone dry.

“I heard you got married,” Yasashii accused angrily as he strode towards the terrified singer.

Shuichi stared at the man in shock and surprise. “H-how did you…?” The only person other than Eiri and himself who knew was Seguchi-san. How had Rinjin found out? Pale and feeling slightly lightheaded, Shuichi glanced around him in growing desperation.

Yasashii had always given Shuichi the creeps. He made his skin crawl. It was like watching a giant black scorpion crawl unceremoniously on a wildlife expert. The man watched him like a hawk circling its prey. He had this creepy smile on his face whenever Shuichi looked at him; a cat ate the canary kind of look. It was that smug and condescending.

At he watched the older man stride towards him Shuichi felt his stomach roll. It was as if he was watching the warden walking towards his cell knowing that he was not coming to tell him the Governor had granted him a stay.

Shuichi again licked his lips. He blinked rapidly to keep the insane man in focus as his vision swam before his eyes. His breath sounded unnaturally loud and his heart felt as if Kei's drums were lodged in his chest.

“There's no one here to interfere,” Rinjin whispered seductively. “It's just the two of us. Just like it should be.”

Tears filled Shuichi's eyes and he gave a sob.

Eiri, his mind cried.

Images of a pale, skeletal hand creeping towards him filled his mind. He felt the cold, icy grip sucking the warm from him.

Eiri, his mind screamed.

This was not happening! God, please don't let this be happening!

“I'll teach you what real love is, Shu-han. I'll show you how sweet it can be,” Yasashii whispered softly.

Shuichi shook his head. He moaned as the hall tilted and swayed. Losing his balance, violet eyes rolled into the back of his head. He mumbled, “Eiri,” then collapsed into a sea of nothingness. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek.

 

* * *

 

**NG Productions**

“And?”

Niwa shook his head. “That's it! I swear!” He slid to the edge of the chair and pleaded with Tohma to believe him. “It was a job! I didn't think--He wasn't like this at the beginning. I realized he was losing it, but--I was in too deep and-!”

Tohma raised a hand. “You will be punished for your part, but right now you will help me stop Rinjin-san before he does something we'll both regret.”

“Yes, sir,” Niwa sighed heavily, hanging his head dejectedly. He had to admit that Tohma Seguchi was a much more formidable opponent than anybody else he has ever come across and he has been up against some arduous people, not to mention a hell of a lot scarier and intensely intimidating. It was no wonder he cracked under the pressure. Niwa knew if it ever came down to a one-on-one fight, he would choose to go up against the Devil than Seguchi Tohma. At least with Satan, he had a chance.

A knock on the office door interrupted the pair. Tohma looked up as his secretary stuck her head in. “Yes?”

“Sorry for bothering you, sir, but Kitagawa-san said you were waiting for a package.”

“Has it arrived?” he inquired in that same nonchalant tone.

“Yes, sir.” S he strode across the room and set the white envelope into her boss's hand. Stepping back, she bowed. “Will that be all, sir?”

Tohma ripped open the envelope and two pieces of paper slid out onto his hand. One was a copy of a signed confession and the other was a photo sheet with reduced images of two dozen photographs that had been found in the man's possession. He scanned the confession and then the photos with a quick, careful eye. “Get me Shuichi and call Detective Liharu. Tell him I would like a word with him as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir.” She bowed and left the office, closing the door behind her.

Tohma set the documents on the desk and leaned forward, clasping his hands on top of his desk. “Tell me, Niwa. What do you know of an Isaac Smith your friend hired?”

Niwa blinked stupidly. “Who?”

“The photographer he hired.”

The ex-Special Ops man's eyes widened in shock and his breathing sped. “I, uh, I don't-”

The producer lightly slapped the desk as he sat back

Niwa jumped as if he was shot. “I swear! I don't know anything about him!” He was this close to wetting himself.

Tohma just stared at him calmly.

Niwa felt as if an enemy operative was interrogating him. He has never been so scared in his entire life and Seguchi Tohma has done nothing. Yet. He has shown no emotion. He has not even raised his voice. He just sat there behind his desk with that nonchalant look. The man was eerily calm about this whole thing and it was creeping him out. “I swear I don't know anything! All I had to do was bug whatever studio Bad Luck would be using that day and keep Yasa informed in case something happened! I swear! That's it!”

“So, he appearing wherever Shuichi was was not a coincidence,” Tohma said more to himself.

Niwa shook his head. “I know the photographer Yasa hired was this guy who could get some amazing shots, shots other people could only dream of. But I've never met him. Yasa rented out a postal box at the post office and they would communicate that way . Yasa would leave the money and the guy would leave the photos. I swear that's it!”

Strangely enough, Tohma believed him. He stared down at the sheet of photos with a frown.

According to Niwa’s statement, Rinjin Yasashii approached Isaac Smith back in March at a local dive here in Japan shortly after he was released from duty as chief bodyguard to Shuichi. Yasashii used the fact that Isaac was fired to his advantage, knowing the British man would jump at the chance to get back at Shuichi and NG Productions for “ruining his life”. Apparently, while in the Royal Marines, Isaac had been part of the news core, a photographer in particular. Somehow, Yasashii knew this and hired the man to follow and take photographs of Shuichi. It was an offer Isaac could not refuse. What Yasashii could have foreseen was that Isaac would use those photographs he took of the singer to his own advantage by blackmailing the singer. In exchange for a couple hundred-million Yen, he would keep the blatantly graphic photos in a shoebox in the back of the closet instead of releasing them to the tabloids. Of course, the photos would receive no such fate, though. They would go to Rinjin Yasashii. But the confrontation never happened. According to his police source, yesterday morning while on his way to NG Productions, Isaac Smith was involved in a serious accident. He passed away sometime during the night, but not before confessing.

Tohma remembered the incident that caused him to fire the man. His knuckles turned white as he clenched the paper tight. His memory of that night was all too vivid.

An hour before Bad Luck was scheduled to go on at Madison Square Garden back in February; Shuichi was attacked in his dressing room by a distraught father who found his daughter hanging from the curtain rod in her closet. It seems that, when the daughter discovered she was pregnant, her boyfriend broke up with her. Upset and suffering from a chronically severe bout of depression, she committed suicide. Playing full blast in her CD player on endless repeat when the father found her was a Bad Luck CD. The father blamed the group or more precisely, Shuichi, for his daughter's death. Somehow, the man managed to sneak his way backstage with a knife. Isaac Smith had been on duty that night, but he disappeared somewhere and that was when the deranged father attacked. It was learned later that the distraught father, this Scott Keene guy, bribed Smith to let him “meet” the singer. Smith was found afterwards in the bathroom as high as a kite and was subsequently fired. His excuse was, “How was I to know he would try to kill Mr. Shindou?”

“Sir,” came his secretary's voice over the intercom. “I called Detective Liharu and he said he would be able to make it within the next fifteen minutes, but I could not get hold of Shindou-san.”

“Did you call the apartment?” Tohma asked trying to keep his composure even though his heart had started racing. Cool and calm, he had to stay in control; otherwise, he would be of no use to anyone.

“Yes, sir, I did, but there was no answer. I called his cellphone but only got his voicemail.”

Tohma pursed his lips and sat back in the chair. He folded his hands under his chin. His gaze landed on the photos but had to look away when his stomach started churning when he realized some pervert had been watching his brother's-in-law's very private moments, capturing them for some sick psycho who would do who the hell knows what with them.

Some of the pictures were innocent, just Shuichi doing everyday things like walking down the street or shopping. Others were of Eiri and Shuichi in their apartment yelling at each other. Tohma knew the couple fought. Everybody knew that, but he had no idea that when they fought, they literally fought. The couple was practically at each other throats. It amused Tohma to some degree for it was only Shuichi who could get such a rise out of the stoic writer. Still other photographs captured the singer and his boyfriend cuddling on the couch. They were “awe” moments. There was one of them kissing innocently as they were making dinner. The look in their eyes and the expression on their faces was worth a thousand words. Others showed the singer walking about the apartment in various stages of dress or undress as the case may be. Others captured the couple in various positions he would rather have not known about. It was like walking in on your parents and realizing that they were people as well.

“Sir?”

“Get Eiri on the line for me and have Sakano check the studio. Shuichi may have come in and be in the middle of recording.” Shuichi may be have been against this project from the very beginning, but the last thing he would do was let the rest of them done, especially after promising he would be part of it, albeit reluctantly.

“Yes, Sir.”

Tohma glanced at the man sitting in front of him until the guy squirmed. “Now, let's start from the beginning, shall we?”

Niwa Kakei slid down in the seat with a groan.

oOo

Rinjin Residence

The man sits in a chair in the corner of the dark bedroom staring at the sleeping figure on the bed. He waits patiently for his love to wake, waits to show him just what love really is between two people. He would make him understand just how wrong his relationship to that perverted womanizing writer is. He was the only one for Shindou-san. He was the only one able to bestow him with the miracle of love. With soft kisses and a gentle caress of hands, candlelight dinners, romantic moonlit walks, sweet lovemaking that none other could satisfy, walking hand in hand down the street, feeding each other ice cream, cuddling on a cold winter's night. He would show him. He wanted to be the one Shindou-san woke up next to each morning and went to bed with each night. At the end of each day, Shindou-san would walk through these doors to a husband that slaved away all day to prepare the perfect dinner, a man who smiled, laughed, and wanted to know all about his day. Yes, Rinjin Yasashii was the ideal man to spend eternity with not that damn writer who only pretended to give a damn. And when Shuichi finally woke up, he would convince him in whatever means necessary.

 

* * *

 

**NG Productions**

It was the same. Today was like a repeat of yesterday. Suguru sat at the console staring blankly through the window at Kei, Kai and Michael as they played an old Bad Luck tune to pass the time. The three were laughing and joking with not a care in the world. On the other hand, Hiro sat on the couch with his head in his hands, looking dejected.

“It's all my fault,” Hiro mumbled.

“Yes, it is,” Suguru agreed.

Hiro's head shot up. He glared at his secret lover with a mixed look. Part of him hated the younger man for agreeing and the other was sad because it was true.

“But,” Suguru continued, “Shindou-san’ll be here. If for nothing more than to talk things out with you. Yuki-san will see to that.”

The red-haired guitarist sighed. He was not so sure. It was already nine and if Shuichi were going to come into work today, he would have an hour and a half ago. When they were younger, Shuichi made a habit of skipping work for days at a time and sometimes for no particular reason. But Shuichi had grown out of that habit a long time ago. No, after making an ass out of himself yesterday, he could not blame Shuichi if he skipped work for the next several days or never spoke with him again.

Suddenly the door to the studio burst open and Sakano-san glanced around nervously. He was sweating and ringing his hands nervously.

“Sakano-san? What's wrong?” Hiro asked the prematurely grey-haired man.

“Uh, where's Shindou-san?” Sakano’s eyes darted around the large, plush studio.

Suguru shook his head. “ Unfortunately, Hiro and he got into it yesterday and he might not be in for a couple of days.”

The producer's eyes widened. “N-not h-here?” He looked ready to faint.

“Yeah. If Tohma wants to speak with him, I'm sure that-”

“What's going on?” Kai asked as he stepped out of the recording booth.

“Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear. This isn't good,” Sakano muttered.

“Sakano, what's wrong?” Suguru glanced at the others. Sakano-san had always been a nervous wreck, no matter what was going on, but this time, it seemed different. None of them could explain it. Maybe it had to do with the underlining fears they have all had this past month whenever Shuichi would try to tell them about his creepy neighbor of his.

Hiro stood up and walked over to the producer. “Sakano-san, calm down. Look, I'm sure Seguchi-san will understand if we just-”

“No! No! No! You don't understand! We can't find Shindou-san! That's why the boss sent me down here!”

The announcement shocked the room into stunned silence. Shuichi was missing?

“Shit,” Kai whispered. He glanced at his twin and their half-American friend with a knowing glance. They were afraid of something like this.

 

* * *

 

“Sir, I have your brother-in-law on the phone,” came the secretary's voice over the intercom interrupting Niwa's self-incrimination.

Niwa sighed in relief. Now he knew what clothes felt like in the washer.

Tohma picked up the phone. “Eiri, where are you right now?”

“On my home, why?”

“Is Shuichi with you?”

“Shuichi? No,” Eiri said in a tone that clearly said, “why the hell would he be?”

“Are you sure?”

“He was getting ready for work when I left. He should be at the studio. Why?”

Tohma sighed. He hated to be the bearer of bad news.

Eiri slowed to a stop at a red light. He suddenly had a bad feeling. “Tohma? What's going on?”

“Have you heard from him since you left?”

“Why would I? Tohma, what's going on?”

Before Tohma could answer, there came a knock on his office door. He called out for whomever it was to enter. The members of Bad Luck with a hyperventilating Sakano behind them entered. He held up a hand to hold all questions and motioned them over. “Do you remember that accident yesterday? The one that held up traffic for hours?”

“Yeah.”

“And do you remember an Isaac Smith?”

The new occupants blinked at the question.

The blond writer was just as confused, but he remembered the guy. How could he not? Isaac Smith was that asshole British guy who was assigned to be Shuichi's bodyguard whose actions nearly got Shuichi killed. “I do. Why? What's-?”

“Well, it seems as if he was the one who caused it.”

“Okay. And?” The light changed and Eiri sped through the intersection.

“Well, some very graphic photos were found in his car and when confronted with them by the police, he confessed he was hired to take them.”

Eiri felt a huge weight of dread settle over him. “What do you mean by ‘graphic'? And who are they of?” Something told him he did not want to know.

“Let's just say, that I had no idea you or Shindou-kun could move or bend like that.”

Eiri cursed and swerved as he found a semi suddenly in his path and almost ended up head first in a car that suddenly braked in front of him, illegally double-parking. He swore again and laid on his horn. Making sure the coast was clear, the writer pulled into the opposite lane, rounding the dumb shit who thought the street was a parking lot and floored it. “He took photos of us?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Fuck! Where the hell is that bastard? I want his head!”

“He passed away a few hours ago due to injuries received because of the accident.”

“Hope the bastard fries in hell!”

“Eiri-”

“Who hired him?” the writer demanded.

“Eiri, let the police handle this,” Tohma suggested calmly.

Eiri snorted. “This coming from you, Tohma?” He clucked his tongue. “Are we getting soft?”

“Please, Eiri. This time let the police handle this. Rinj-”

“Bloody hell,” Eiri cursed, speeding up. He ignored all traffic laws as all the pieces suddenly fell into place. That psychotic bastard had his Shuichi, his Shu-chan! He was the reason his baka had those nightmares almost every night. He was the cause of everything. “I'm going to kill that bastard,” he muttered, seething.

“Eiri, I know how you feel, but-Eiri? Eiri? S hit,” Tohma cursed. He slammed the phone down.

Just then, the door opened and in walked Detective Liharu. He was an average looking Japanese man in a non-discreet suit that seemed a little bit rumpled.

“I need you to get some men to my brother's-in-law's apartment building. Now,” Tohma told the man standing up.

“May I ask why?”

“I'll tell you on the way there,” he said striding out of the office and dragging Niwa with him.

The detective exchanged a confused glance with the pop band before following him out.

“Let's just hope to Kami-sama that Shuichi just has his phone off,” Tohma told himself. If anything happened to the lithe singer, none of them would ever forgive themselves, especially Eiri and Tohma did not want to see his best friend hurt again, not after the man had finally been able to move on with his life.

 

* * *

 

**Rinjin Residence**

The blackness gradually faded. The fog slowly began to lift.

Shuichi groaned as he became aware of a dull pounding that reverberated through his head. He curled up on his side and clutched his head. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the room spinning and swaying. He felt sick. A jolt of pain zipped through his head. Groaning, he hugged an arm around his churning stomach as the intense pain in his head began to cause his nausea to swell. Shuichi coiled into as tight a ball as she could get.

Taking deep breathes; he tried to calm himself through the rising pain and nausea. Gradually, it all faded as he fell back into a dreamless stupor.

The figure hidden in the shadows slowly got to its feet. He walked to the side of the bed and studied the younger man with a worried expression. What was wrong with his Shu-han? Had that bastard lover of his done something to him? His clenched his hands tightly, gritting his teeth in anger. He was going to take care of the womanizing writer if it was the last thing he ever did.

 

* * *

 

Darkness. Silence. Utterly and complete. They surrounded him, encompassed and engulfed him. A sea of nothingness entrenched Shuichi. He was alone in a great, black void. The silence was just as thick, just as heavy, just as suffocating. There were no birds chirping, no locust buzzing, no creaking boards or settling foundations. He could hear none of the traffic that should be on the other side of the wall nor could he hear conversations floating up from the street as people went by. The only sound was the buzzing in his ears silence causes.

The hair on the back of his neck and on his arms stood on end. He was no longer alone.

His heart started racing, pounding painfully in his chest, making it difficult to catch his breath. The silence was drowned by the sudden wheezing that sounded louder than it really was in the unnatural silence. Shuichi placed his hand over his rapidly rising and falling chest as he tried to catch his breath.

Shuichi licked his lips and swallowed audibly. His mouth had gone inexplicably dry.

From out of the darkness came two ghostly hands. His eyes widened in fright. Swallowing a scream that was clawing up his throat, Shuichi scrambled backwards as the floating hands slowly traveled toward him. He could not allow those things to touch him. He did not want them anywhere near him.

Someone! Please God! Keep them away from me! Eiri! Please help me!

Suddenly, the soft mattress underneath him vanished. With a startled yelp, he fell with a hard thud to the floor. Ignoring the pain hissing through his backside, Shuichi froze as a soft creak broke the silence of the darkness. His heart still beating a rapid tattoo against his ribcage, he scrambled backwards frantically. All of a sudden, Shuichi felt something solid and smooth whack against his back. He gasped in disbelief as he felt behind him blindly. A wall.

No! This was not happening!

Whimpering, Shuichi inched his way along the barrier, pressing himself into it as if it would somehow swallow him whole and spit him out to safety somewhere where those bodiless hands would never find him.

“Stay away,” he sobbed. His voice shook, betraying how terrified he was.

Why was this happening? Why? His whole body was trembling. This was just like the nightmare that has haunted his sleep for the past month and unfortunately, he knew how it ended. However, he refused to let it. He just got married. He was pregnant with his husband’s child. And Hiro! He still had to make things right between them. He still had to apologize for yelling at him. He was only twenty-seven years old. Why could he not live a normal life like everybody else? Was that too much to ask?

He soft sobs became loud cries that echoed in the black nothingness. He howled when he found himself suddenly trapped in a corner, literally.

Shuichi could hear the soft creaks as whatever was trapped in the darkness with him crept towards him ever so slowly. He knew he had to get away. There was no telling what this psycho would do to him, but he could not move. His fear trapped him there.

“Eiri,” he hiccup-sobbed. “Please.”

“I'm sorry, Shu-han,” whispered a voice in his ear. “But your ‘lover' is not here. It's just you and me.”

With a terrified yelp, Shuichi scrambled blindly away from the voice.

“Shu-han,” chuckled the voice. “I won't hurt you, you know that! I'm here to help you! I want to save you!”

Shuichi hissed in pain as he smacked into something hard. Agonizing pain laced his head. Tears prickled his eyes. Rubbing his throbbing head, he spit, “I don't need your help! I don't need you to save me! I don't want anything from you, Yasashii!” He reached out blindly and felt the slick, smooth surface of another wall. Cursing, tears of pain and fear racing down his face, Shuichi sat with his back pressed against the wall and tried to search the darkness for his captor.

“That's because that damn perverted womanizer has poisoned your mind! Why can't you see that?” he pleaded.

“Fuck you! That ‘perverted womanizer' is my husband! I love him and he loves me!”

“What about me, Shu-han?” Yasashii asked in a gentle voice. “Don't my feelings count for anything?”

Shuichi ignored the question and tumbled to his feet, but made sure he kept his hands against the wall. Slowly, he began sliding himself along the wall, hoping to find a door or something. He had to get out of here! He had to find Eiri!

“I know everything about you, Shu-han! Shindou Shuichi. Standing at 165 centimeters. Born April 16. Aries. Your blood type is A. You love strawberry pocky. Sakuma Ryuichi is your idol. Nagano Hiro is your best friend. When you were eighteen, you got signed to NG.”

“Shut up! That doesn't mean anything! Anybody with a few yen could find all that out! What makes you so special?”

“I love you, that's why!”

Shuichi barked out a laugh. “Kidnapping me and holding me against my will is love?”

“I'm trying to help you! Yuki-san has poisoned your mind against our love!”

“You're crazy!”

“Only about you, My Love.”

Shuichi screamed out in frustration. Trying to talk reason to this guy was trying to talk to a brick wall. He was even more determined to get out. There was no telling what this guy had planned. But first, he had to know one thing. “What did you do to my guards?”

“Don't worry. I took care of them.”

“'Took care of them'?” A resurgence of fear raced through him. “What did you do? You better not have harmed them!”

“Shu-han, they were keeping us apart! It was all a big conspiracy, don’t you see? We belong together!”

Shuichi laughed through his tears. “Abducting me and killing my guards will certainly make me fall for you,” he said sarcastically. “How did you do it? They're trained not to leave their posts no matter what.”

Yasashii shrugged, not having moved from his spot on the other side of the room. “I have my ways.”

“Tell me!”

“I have a man inside, NG. Did you know that?”

“What?” Shuichi could not believe what he was hearing.

“Yup. You see, I had my friend grab a cellphone belonging to none other than Seguchi-san.”

Shuichi gasped. So, that's what happened to it? It seemed a little strange for Tohma to lose his cellphone. That man could find a needle in a typhoon.

“Then I sent them a message telling them I, excuse me, that Seguchi needed to speak with them. When they were distracted, I snuck up behind them and put them out of our misery.”

“I don't believe you,” Shuichi whispered.

“Believe what you want, Shu-han. For you are mine.”

“Never!”

“Oh, you will be, My Love,” he promised. “You will be.”

 

* * *

 

**En Route**

A traffic jam! Eiri swore someone out there was laughing at him, mocking him.

“ _Kuso_ ,” he spit, slamming a hand against the steering wheel. “Goddamn mother fucking son of a...”

Why was Fate playing with him? Did it not know that he had to get home and save his baka from a lunatic? Gritting his teeth in fury, he looked for an alternative route out of this mess. A sudden ringing caused Eiri to jump out of his skin in surprise.

“Shit,” he hissed.

He glanced at his cellphone on the seat besides him as it continued to ring. Eiri glanced out the windshield as the sea of cars parted. Ignoring the phone, he jumped out of line and raced through the opening. A squeal of brakes and an insistent blaring of horns echoed after him. Eiri ignored it all and blasted through the intersection, flooring it.

“I'm coming, Shu-chan,” he whispered. “Hold on!”

 

* * *

 

**En Route**

Tohma flipped the phone closed with a silent curse.

“Traffic jam up ahead, sir,” said the driver.

“Go around! Get us to Shindou-san yesterday!”

“Yes, Sir,” the driver replied calmly.

With Tohma in the car were the members of Bad Luck and Niwa-san. Each one had the same thought. Let us get there in time!

 

* * *

 

**En Route**

A shiver raced down Shuichi's spine. “You wish.”

“No, I know.” Yasashii slowly started making his way across the room. This was his territory and unlike his soon to be lover, he knew his way around his bedroom. He knew where everything was, even in the dark.

Shuichi had fanatic fans before, people who could not tell reality from fantasy, but they were nothing like this guy. Yasashii took the cake. “You're crazy.”

“I'm doing all this for us, Shu-han, for our future!” Yasashii pleaded.

“We don't have a future!” Shuichi froze as the texture of the wall changed. His heart beating in excitement, he frisked the wall and found a perfectly straight crack between the wall and the raised, smoother textured surface. He realized he found the door. His pulse sped. Blindly, he searched for the door handle. When his abdomen rammed into a round object sticking out of the door, he knew he found it. Tears of joy ran down his face. “We could have been friends, Yasashii,” he told the man truthfully. “Everyone thought you were a nice guy and would not hurt a fly!”

“I am and I wouldn't!”

“Ha!” Sniffing, Shuichi turned the doorknob and to his relief, it opened.

Yasashii froze, terror overcoming him. “What're you doing, Shu-han?”

“Leaving,” Shuichi cried as he flung open the door and ran blindly out of the room.

 

* * *

 

**En Route**

Panic as he never felt before raced through Eiri. He ran every light and stop sign, went over the posted speed limit and weaved in and out of traffic as if he was playing one of Shuichi's racing games. He stopped for no one, not old ladies, not mother's with baby carriages and emergency vehicles had to give him the right of way. Nothing was going to stop him from getting to Shuichi in time, nothing.

Eiri jerked the wheel hard to the left and flew into the parking lot surrounding his apartment complex. Dirt and gravel pinged the car. He drove right up to the front door and jumped out of the car, leaving the engine running and the car door wide open. Nothing was more important at this moment than his baka, not even his precious Mercedes.

Too impatient to wait for the elevator, the blond romance writer flew like a cheetah up the seemingly never-ending staircase. He burst through the steel door clutching his side and panting heavily. His heart was thundering in his chest. He promised himself that if they got out of this alive, he would join Shuichi in the gym.

Pausing to catch his breath, Eiri sped down the hall and skidded around the corner. His stride slowed as he saw something in the middle of the hallway. He squinted in the dim lighting trying to make out what the objects were. A sudden thought froze the blood in his veins.

Cursing, panic and fear surging anew through him, Eiri raced down the hall with a renewed bout of energy. As he drew closer, an outpouring of relief flooded through him. Eiri collapsed to his knees and said a silent prayer of thanks.

Reaching out, he picked up the cowboy hat. He knew without any doubt that it was Shuichi's. The baka made such a fuss over the stupid thing when Ryuichi bought it for him. He had worn it consecutively for the next two weeks, until Eiri threatened to banish him to the couch if he did not take it off. Setting the hat down, he reached for the black bag. It also belonged to Shuichi. He glanced up and down the hallway but saw no sign of a fight or disturbance of any kind. Neither did he see Jacob or Koji.

A door down the hall opened and a shaft of light fell into the hall. Eiri watched as an elderly woman with a shock of white hair and a face with more wrinkles than a bulldog stepped out into the hall. He recognized her at once as Morisaki Uiko. She was the one who called the police whenever she heard the tiniest noise and since Shuichi moved in, that meant she called several times a day. It had gotten to the point where the police did not even bother to show up anymore. They have more important things to worry about than the fact that an old woman could hear every little whisper through the walls.

“Uesugi-san,” she scolded. “I would ask you to tell your roommate to-”

Eiri raised an eyebrow at the “roommate” bit. At nearly one hundred, Morisaki-sama could not seem to fathom the idea of two men sharing the kind of happiness and love her and her husband of eighty years had. It was beyond her comprehension.

“-please keep it down. He's been screaming and making such a racket!”

Screaming? Oh, God, that did not sound good at all. What was that asshole doing to his husband? The writer dropped the black bag and jumped to his feet, his heart beating rapidly. “Where are they?” he demanded angrily.

Morisaki-sama blinked at the younger man's tone. “Why, in Rinjin-san-”

Eiri did not wait for her to finish her sentence. He spun around and raced to Rinjin's apartment. He rattled the doorknob, but unfortunately found it locked. He slammed his body into the door, putting all his body weight and might into it. “Shuichi!” he cried.

Morisaki Uiko's eyes widened in fright. She gasped and covering her mouth with her hand, fled into the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind her.

“Eiri!” came muffled replay.

The writer growled and slammed himself into the door. He had to get in there. He had to save his baka. He had to get back what was his. “Shuichi! Shu-chan!”

 

* * *

 

Shuichi hissed and turned his head away, shielding his sensitive eyes from the harsh burst of light.

“Shu! Shu-han, please!” Yasashii pleaded. “Just give me a chance!”

The man not worthy of an answer, Shuichi raced out of the room and down the hall towards the staircase. His gaze swept over the railing that separated the occupants from a two-story plummet and caught sight of the two prone figures lying sprawled out in the middle of the living room. Shuichi gasped and slowed to a halt at the head of the staircase. His chest tightened and his eyes filled with tears. He hoped they were all right. If Yasashii had indeed killed them, he would never be able to forgive himself.

A noise behind him drew his attention from the bodyguards. Through his tear-blurred vision, he watched Yasashii walk confidently into the hall with a smug smile on his face. “Bastard,” Shuichi hissed with tears streaming down his face.

The smile vanished and his face contorted in an ugly mask of anger and hate. “How can you be so ungrateful,” he snapped with vehemence. “All this is for us,” he whispered softly, walking slowly towards him. “Our love! Our future!”

“I told you there is no us!” Shuichi screamed.

“And I said there will be,” Yasashii reminded the singer in a calm voice.

“Fuck you!”

Sudden pounding from below drew his attention. “Shuichi,” came the familiar voice, muffled though the door.

Shuichi's heart surged in joy and relief, but before he could even open his mouth, he saw a blur of color out of the corner of his eye and the next thing he knew he was on the floor with Yasashii straddling him, his hands trapped in a viselike grip above his head. It all happened so fast, he just could not comprehend what happened. His vivid purple eyes clouded over in confusion; Shuichi stared up into the eyes of a deranged madman. The look in Yasashii's eyes was nothing like what Shuichi was used to. What he saw in that second, made his heart stop. This guy had seriously lost it. This was more than just a simple over-infatuation. This man had completely lost all sense of reality. People like him scared Shuichi. “E-Eiri,” he breathed. Fright stilled his heart and stole his words, freezing him to the floor. His terror caused him to start shaking.

“Shuichi,” came the shout as a loud crash echoed through the apartment. “Shu-chan!”

Shuichi's head snapped towards the sound. “Eiri,” he shouted back. He was here! Eiri was here! Just knowing that his husband was here gave Shuichi much needed courage. He felt his fear recede. He struggled against his captor's tight hold on him as the loud banging and crashing continued, but Yasashii was stronger than his geeky, wimpy build gave him credit for. Trying to get away from this guy was like trying to push a building off its foundation with your bare hands. Shuichi screamed and kicked his legs out of frustration.

A loud splintering sound echoed through the apartment. The front door started to buckle and crack under the constant beating it was receiving.

“It's no use, Shu-han,” Yasashii whispered in his ear, ignoring the threat from below. “I told you, I'd make you mine no matter what.”

Panic raced through the singer. “Eiri! Eiri! Please,” he sobbed.

“Shuichi!”

“Eiri!” Shuichi screamed. Even he could tell how hysterical he was becoming.

Yasashii found himself getting hard by his love's attempts to escape. Licking his lips in anticipation, he bent over, his face hovering centimeters from Shuichi's. “Our first kiss, Shu,” he whispered.

“Don't do this,” Shuichi begged with tears coursing down his cheeks. He tried turning his head from the inevitable, but long, skeletal-like claws clamped around his chin, holding him firmly in place.

“I love you, Shu-han,” Yasashii whispered right before their lips touched.

Shuichi froze, unable to form one coherent thought. He stared at the man above him with wide, shock filled eyes. His thoughts chased one another like a dog chasing its tail.

What was he supposed to do? He did not know! Oh, God, Eiri, help me, he thought.

Then a thought started to form.

Forcing himself to relax, he opened his mouth willingly, allowing the man's tongue to slip in and sweep the dark, dank cavern. The singer suppressed a shudder at how disgusting it felt to have this guy inside of him. He had to fight the urge to vomit, but it worked.

Thinking he finally won Shuichi over, Yasashii's hold loosened. Shuichi silently rejoiced. He yanked his hands out of his captor's grip and slammed them into the sides of Yasashii's head. The man screamed out in pain and sat up clutching his head. Fisting his hands, Shuichi punched the unsuspecting man in the face, hearing a sickening crunch of bone. The first one sent Yasashii's head back with a snap and a gasp. Spittle flew from the man's mouth and specks of blood arched from his nose. The second fist slammed into Yasashii’s jaw, sending him keeling over backwards. Shuichi staggered to his feet, shaking and stood over his would-be rapist as he moaned and writhed on the floor, gripping his head.

 

* * *

 

Eiri rubbed his sore shoulder. He knew this could be done. He had seen an episode of the American show “Myth Busters” where the bigger guy--what was his name, Jaime? --had beaten down a door with just his body weight. So Eiri knew it could be done. Since he was not as big as the man on the show was, it would take him twice as long to break through the door, but it could be done. He started towards the door once again. Just one or two more times and the door would be history, but the sudden screaming from inside stopped Eiri's blood cold. He stumbled to a halt. His heart was racing. Eiri cursed and backed up. Taking a deep breath, the writer charged the door with a primitive cry. He bounced off the door as he heard it crack and shatter open.

Finally.

He pushed the door aside and stumbled inside the apartment, tripping over something that was lying right inside the door. Regaining his balance, he stared over his shoulder at the limp bodies and cursed.

“E-Eiri,” came the cry from above him.

The writer glanced up, saw his baka alive and well at the head of the staircase. At his feet was their neighbor, clutching his face and crying. “Shu, what did you do to him?”

Shuichi smiled proudly. “Decked him.”

Eiri snorted, but felt a surge of pride. “I can see that baka.”

“Well,” the singer said, fisting his hands on his hips, “that's what he gets for trying to take what I reserve for you alone.”

“What?” Eiri did not like that one little bit. He started towards the staircase. “Shuichi, what-?” He cut himself off when he noticed the bastard who took his Shuichi stagger to his feet. With his wide eyes, he watched as this man, who had blood covering the lower half of his face and an insane gleam in his eyes, glared at the back of Shuichi's head.

Shuichi heart beat in reaction to the sudden panicked look in his husband in confusion. “Eiri?” he called out cautiously. “What's-?”

“Duck,” Eiri shouted in panic.

Without bothering to question the older man, Shuichi did what he was told and dropped. His eyes widened as he felt the swoosh of air passing right above his head. He staggered backwards and stood back up as Yasashii lurched past him, trying to regain his balance. The man growled, spun around and charged Shuichi. The singer stood his ground. Bending over, he rammed his head into Yasashii's gut and grabbed hold of his belt. He heard the man grunt as his breath was forced out of him. With a cry, Shuichi pushed them down the hall, unaware of where they were heading.

Eiri stood at the foot of the stairs, feeling more proud of his Shu-chan than he ever has before. Shuichi may look like a weakling, but he could kick some major ass in a one-on-one fight. His eyes widened in sudden realization. “Fuck,” he whispered in panic. “Shuichi! Stop!” Eiri raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He had to get to him!

Hearing the panic in his husband's voice, Shuichi tried to slow down, but was unable to. He felt the jarring impact as Yasashii crashed into the railing. The collision sent shockwaves through Shuichi's body. Seconds later, the horrifying sound of splintering wood echoed through the apartment and this time, Shuichi knew it was not the sound of the door being busted open. He stared at the man he was strapped around with wide, terrified eyes.

Eiri reached the landing just as the railing gave. For a few precious seconds, the two men teetered at the edge. “Shuichi!” he cried, rushing forward. Time seemed to slow down at that moment. It seemed like Eiri had all the time in the world to get to his husband’s side, but knew in reality that he had no time at all. “Shuichi!” He reached out for him, as he rushed forward.

Shuichi glanced over his shoulder at him, his eyes wide in fright, and a look of foreboding on his face. His eyes widened as gravity reached out with mighty claws and snatched them. With a blood-curling scream, his husband vanished from view as everything around him rushed passed him towards the ceiling. He closed his eyes tight against the sight quickening up to him at the speed of light.

“Shuichi!” Eiri cried hysterically as he ran to the edge of the landing. “Shuichi!”

 

* * *

 

They were greeted by a heart-stopping scream when the elevator doors opened. Glancing at one another, the group raced down the hall passed the Uesugi residence towards the apartment next door.

The first thing they noticed was the door that was hanging crookedly by one hinge. A large hunk of the doorframe was missing where the doorknob should have been. The cheap chain lock had a chunk of the doorframe swinging from it. The second thing they saw were the two unmoving figures. Even with their faces hidden from view, the group knew immediately that the still figures were those of Shuichi's bodyguards. Whether they were alive or dead and what happened was unknown and placed on the back burner as they heard a stampede of feet and a muttering of incoherent ramblings. In unison, the group watched as a tall, blond haired man raced down the staircase and towards the back of the apartment, where two more prone figures lay.

“Shuichi,” the Shiro twins Kei and Kai whispered.

“Oh my God,” Michael cried, covering his mouth with his hand as tears sprang into his eyes.

Hiro stood dumbfounded as he watched Uesugi “Yuki” Eiri cradle the unmoving, limp body of Shindou Shuichi in his arms and crying uncontrollably. He had never seen this coldhearted, emotionless man anything other than angry or cool. Though Shuichi told them that Eiri could be sweet and nice and kind, Hiro had never seen it for himself before.

Sakano cried out and swooned.

Niwa stood behind them, shaking. This was all his fault. If had come forward sooner, none of this would have happened!

Tohma strode towards his brother-in-law, his outward appearance the epitome of calm, but inside he was anything but. “Eiri,” he called softly.

“Help him, Tohma,” Eiri cried. “Help him!”

“We will,” Tohma told the younger man softy as he knelt behind the writer. “They're on their way. We called them on the way here.” He hugged his old friend from behind, laying his head against his blond locks.

“Everything'll be all right.”

Eiri hugged his baka tightly to him, crying chaotically into his black locks. His hand ran down Shuichi's back to his buttocks, so he could hold the tiny man closer, but felt something slimy and squishy at the crotch of the lithe singer's jeans. Pulling back, he glanced down and gasped, his eyes widening in shock. There was a large, widening stain bleeding out onto Shuichi's jeans. His heart jumped sharply.

“Oh my God,” Eiri breathed. With tears falling freely down his face, the blond writer moaned and sobbed as he rocked his husband. “Oh God. Hold on, Shuichi. Please. Oh, God. Oh, God.”

In the distance, the sound of approaching sirens grew louder.

Tohma had never felt so helpless before in his entire life.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until twenty minutes later when the EMTs--Emergency Medical Technicians--were loading the sheet covered gurney carrying an unresponsive Shindou Shuichi into one of the waiting ambulances that Eiri’s devastation and heartache was pushed aside long enough for him to remember his son.

“Oh, God,” he moaned as he stared blankly at the ambulance with its revolving lights. “What am I going to tell Riku?”

The thirteen year old was a Mama’s Boy through and through. Riku already lost his biological parents--his father before he was even born and his mother five years later. Other than Yoshiki, Shuichi was the only other mother-figure the teenager have ever known. Losing Shuichi would completely crush the thirteen year old.

Hell, it would crush Eiri as well to lose the love of his life.

Stepping forward, Tohma laid a comforting hand on the shoulder of his wife’s brother. His own emotional pain was concealed behind a stoic mask. “You go with Shuichi to the hospital, I’ll go get Riku, okay?”

Choking back tears, Eiri nodded before climbing into the back of the ambulance.

As he watched the ambulance speed off with a cloud of dust and gravel, its siren sounding, Tohma silently prayed for Shuichi.

 

* * *

 

**Shinogu Central High School**

Riku peered up from the textbook he was supposed to be reading when a light rapping sounded on the classroom door. “Supposed to be” being the keywords, but in reality he had not been able to get passed the title of the chapter. History was not his forte. In fact, school was not his forte. He found it be a pointless and useless art. His favorite class was the creative writing and modern literature classes he was taking.

“Come in,” Motoko-san, his world history teacher, announced.

A student- a first year by the looks of her, but then again looks could be deceiving--strode into the room and handed a note to Motoko-san before exiting.

“Kitazawa-san,” Motoko-san said after reading over the note. “It seems you’re wanted in the office,” she informed him. “Grab your things.”

Confused and curious, Riku shut his textbook and shoved it into his book bag. Pushing his chair back, he stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder. His classmates were watching him in open curiosity as he made his way up the aisle to the front of the classroom. A light murmuring pulsated around him as he took the hall pass and made his way out of the classroom and through the deserted halls to the main office.

“Riku.”

His head snapped around at the familiar voice. “Uncle Tohma,” he cried out in surprise. “Wha-what’s going on? What’re you…?”

Standing up from the bench he’d been sitting on, Tohma walked towards his young nephew. “It’s Shuichi.”

Dread and rising panic filled the teen, both of which he tried to push aside. “Mama? But--what?”

“Riku…I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”

Riku felt as if he’d been socked in the stomach.

oOo

Several Hours Later - Keio University Hospital

Two dark suited men stood guard in front of an isolated room in the ICU ward where the comatose lead singer of Bad Luck lay, an IV drip secured in his hand and a breathing tube hooked to his nose. A heart monitor's rhythmic beeping was the only sound in the eerily silent room. Nearly his entire body was encased in white bandages, making him look eerily like a mummy.

 

* * *

 

Eiri sat in the farthest corner of the waiting room, a miserable mess. A vat of guilt hung over him like a dark cloud.

How had this happened? Why had it happened? Why had they been cursed to constantly meet such dire fates? NG Productions’ number one band was aptly named for it seemed bad luck followed Shuichi around like a faithful puppy, but why? Why was this happening? It made no sense! Shuichi had done nothing to deserve this. Nothing. Was it punishment for deeds done in a past life? That had to be it. What else was there? But again, why? Why strike down the saint for crimes committed by the devil? It made absolutely no sense, none whatsoever. No amount of reasoning would make him think otherwise.

He looked up when he heard the sharp click-clack of heels and watched Mika stride confidently into the waiting room. Her hair was pulled back neatly and her crisp business suit hugged her curves nicely. She sat down besides him and crossed her legs. She turned towards him and started talking, but Eiri heard none of it. It was all a jumbled mass of words.

Back in the hallway, just out of earshot, Tohma who was speaking with two plainclothes detectives. Eiri knew they would want to talk to him, but he was not in any mood to rehash what happened. All he wanted to do was forget those horrific events and focus on Shuichi.

Tears pricked his eyes. He pursed his lips together to keep a threatening sob from getting loose. Leaning his head back against the wall, he took deep, even breaths in through his nose and exhaled out through his mouth, trying to loosen the tight restrictiveness in his chest and the constrictiveness of his throat. He opened his eyes wide and stared at the white drop down ceiling, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from escaping their prison cell and he prayed. Eiri was not sure when the last time he prayed was, but he asked, demanded, pleaded, and offered to make a deal with whoever was listening as long as Shuichi made it out of this alive. He was willing to do anything to have his husband back safe and sound.

He tightened his hold on his son--who had cried himself to sleep once he heard what happened to his “mama”--and absently stroked the boy’s hair with his other hand.

“Tatsuha's on his way along with Ryuichi,” Mika was saying to him. “Apparently they left as soon as Tohma called.”

Eiri nodded. Both Tatsuha and Ryuichi were very close to Shuichi, especially Ryuichi. The two of them were like brothers. The idiotic singer was not going to take the news very well, but then again none of them were taking it very well.

“Father's staying at the temple. He has a wedding to perform tonight and then a funeral tomorrow, but he said he'd pray for Shindou.”

Eiri let his head lull to the side, where he stared blankly at the wall above the television that stared back at him with equally blank eyes. He’d had a feeling his father would not come. The man was not exactly in favor of his relationship with Shuichi, though he has come to accept it only because he had no other choice, but knowing that his father would be praying for Shuichi, somehow made Eiri feel a little better.

He turned and looked at Shuichi's parents sitting on the far side of the waiting room. It was obvious by the strained look on his face that Shuichi’s father was trying to curtail his own grief in favor of comforting his wife, who was wailing hysterically into his shoulder. It was not hard to tell she and Shuichi were related. Their daughter, Maiko, and her husband were flying into Narita tonight from Hokkaido with their one-year-old daughter.

He wondered what these people would think if he were to tell them about the commitment ceremony Shuichi and he held in their living room yesterday. It may not be a legal marriage in the eyes of the law, but for the two of them they were as married as two people could be.

Eiri's eyes slid to the various members of Bad Luck who were huddled together. They looked almost like a pile of puppies.

Sakano was so distraught he had been sedated and was now resting on a bed in the recovery/observation area in the emergency room.

Hiro appeared to be the most upset. He and Shuichi have been friends since they were in middle school after all. The guitarist had his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking softly.

Sitting and looking equally distraught besides him was Suguru. The former keyboardist and current manager maneuvered Hiro’s head into his lap as the older man continued to cry silent tears. Suguru started stroking Hiro’s long reddish-brown.

Hiro's wife, Ayaka, was nine months pregnant and due any day now, so Hiro thought it best if she stayed home, though it might have been better if she had come to the hospital because it would be convenient if she were to go into labor; she would already be at the hospital. On the other hand it was better that she was not here to witness her husband being comforted like this.

Shuichi had confided in him not that long ago that he was suspicious about how close the two had become recently. Eiri had always though his baka lover was reading too much into the relationship of a couple of friends, but now, he was beginning to agree with Shuichi’s assessment.

The only ones not here, other than Shuichi’s sister and her family, was Noriko. Unfortunately, Noriko and her family left just this morning for Hong Kong for a family vacation and had left no contact number, so, Tohma had been forced to leave a message on their answering machine.

“Niwa-san was taken into custody,” Mika was saying to him.

Eiri blinked. He had forgotten she was speaking to him.

“No surprise he squealed like a pig. Apparently, he was the one who stole Tohma's cellphone.”

Eiri scowled. That was something Eiri would never forgive his brother-in-law for. When Tohma lost his cellphone, he should have had it disconnected, or had the service terminated or something, then maybe the guards would have been there to protect their charge instead of being lured away.

As hard as he tried, Eiri just could not stop the tears that tickled down his cheeks. He brushed them away impatiently before anyone noticed them.

Please, he silently prayed. Let him be all right.

A picture of Shuichi flashed through his mind, his lithe body mangled, his limbs splayed at odd, unnatural angles. Eiri shook those images away violently. He had to keep his mind busy.

“Did you find out anything about Shuichi's guards?” he asked his sister, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Mika blinked, momentarily confused. “I asked the two police officers and they said they spoke to the coroner and from his preliminary reports, it appears as if they hadn’t been dead for long by the time the emergency personnel arrived. The cause of death for now is a single gunshot to the heart, but we'll have to wait until he does the autopsy.”

Eiri made a noncommittal noise.

“Also,” Mika continued, “Rinjin-san appears to have snapped his neck in the fall. They said he died instantly.”

A low growl escaped Eiri.

Mika glanced at her brother in sympathy.

That bastard, after everything he did, had the nerve to die. That asshole, who was the cause of this whole fiasco, had the nerve to escape justice. Bullshit. Eiri hoped that he suffered in the next life for his crimes.

**…To Be Continued...**

 

 


	5. Reunion

**Chapter 5: Reunion**

**Keio University Hospital**

Eiri glanced up quickly when he heard someone enter the waiting room. Immediately, he recognized Shuichi's physician. Lifting a sleeping Riku out of his lap, he stood up and gently laid the boy across the seats. “Dr. Ohtani,” he greeted, stepping forward as the others gathered around him.

The middle-aged gentlemen nodded at him. “Uesugi-san, I'm sorry we have to meet again under these circumstances.”

Eiri inclined his head in agreement.

Mrs. Shindou, clutching her husband's arms tightly, stepped forward. She was pale and trembling. “Doctor, how's my son?”

Dr. Ohtani glanced at the gathered group who were eagerly awaiting something--anything about their loved one. “I’m afraid that Shuichi is in a coma.”

Gasps and stunned silence met this stunning revelation. Suddenly feeling faint, Eiri grew pale. The room narrowed down to nothing.

Across the room, Shuichi's mother cried out. More gasps and whispers echoed as Mrs. Shindou's eyes rolled back and her feet collapsed under her. Mr. Shindou cried in alarm and rushed to her side. He laid her out on the floor. Dr. Ohtani rushed forward and called over his shoulder for assistance. The doctor checked Mrs. Shindou’s pulse and then shined a penlight into her eyes to check her pupil's. An orderly flew into the room pushing a gurney.

“She'll be alright. She just fainted,” Dr. Ohtani said. He stood back up. He helped the orderly lift the woman place her on the wheeled bed. “We'll wheel her into the recovery room and give her a full physical just to be sure.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Shindou bowed as he followed the white clad orderly out of the waiting room.

Everybody watched the couple with pity and sadness; they knew exactly how Shindou-san felt, but had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

Dr. Ohtani sighed . “Unfortunately, that was the good news.”

Eiri snapped his head around towards the older man.

“Aside from being in a coma, Shuichi also has suffered a mild concussion.”

Eiri had to admit he was not the least bit surprised. Shuichi hit his head hard when he fell.

“It could have been worse,” Dr. Ohtani confessed. “From what I've been told, it seems when he fell, Shindou-san landed on Rinjin-san, which actually cushioned his fall somewhat, which is why he is still alive, but he also used Rinjin-san as a trampoline of sorts. Shindou-san bounced off him and hit the floor, hitting his head, which is what caused the concussion.”

Eiri forced back the images that pushed their way into the forefront of his mind. The last thing he wanted was to remember those agonizing seconds when he thought his whole world had collapsed.

“We did a CAT scan,” Dr. Ohtani was saying, “and no blood clots or any other sort of anomaly showed up. There should not be any lingering affects from the concussion, but we won't be absolutely sure until he wakes up.”

Please let my baka be all right, Eiri prayed for the hundredth time that night.

“Do you know when that might be?” Officer Maki asked from behind the doctor.

Dr. Ohtani shook his head. “Unfortunately, little is known about comas. Some people wake up after a few days and others--never wake up.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the group.

Eiri swallowed over a sudden lump in his throat and squeezed his eyes shut against sudden tears. Shuichi was strong and stubborn. He would wake up. One of the things he hated above all else was disappointing Eiri. He also hated it when Eiri was mad at him. Shuichi would wake up, if for nothing else other than to apologize. Then there was Riku. Eiri glanced over his should at their son who was still sleeping peacefully stretched out on the chairs.

“Shindou-san broke both of his legs and arms, as well as several ribs, but they should heal without incident.”

Eiri could picture Shuichi wrapped around Rinjin's waist when the railing broke. Unfortunately, the singer's limbs had been trapped behind Yasashii’s back as they plummeted two-stories to the floor.

Sighs of relief echoed through the room.

“But…”

Everyone tensed.

“We took some x-rays and it appears as if there’s a build up of fluid along his spinal cord.”

Eiri paled.

“What does that mean?” someone asked.

Dr. Ohtani shook his head sadly. “At this point we really can’t say. We'll have to wait for Shindou-san to wake up to fully ascertain the extent the damage the fall may have caused, but at this point, it looks as if he might suffer from what is known as ‘spinal shock’. Now what that means is that the spinal cord stops doing its job for a period of time after an injury.”

“…You…” Eiri felt sick. “You mean, Shu…”

“Like I said, we cannot determine the full extent of the damage he may or may not have suffered until he awakens from his coma and only then will we be able to tell if this spinal shock resulted in a complete or an incomplete injury.”

“What’s the difference?” someone asked. Eiri guessed to was most likely Tohma, but was not sure.

“Well, incomplete is what we are striving for. This means that the feelings and movement may come back.”

There were sighs and whispers of relief.

“But if it should be complete…” Dr Ohtani left the rest unsaid.

Shocked cries and gasps followed this admission.

Eiri felt faint. This could not be happening! His baka might not be able to walk? That seemed too cruel a fate for the hyperactive singer. Shuichi thrived on being free to ran, jump and prance around on stage. He was always running around the house, sliding across the floor as if it was an ice rink, jumping on him, dragging him out for walks and dates. Shuichi always acted as if he had ants in his pants. He could not sit still if his life depended on it. Truth be told, Eiri loved that about him. With the lower half of his body useless, it was better if Shuichi had been killed in that fall. But now…

“If it is complete, there might be the possibility of surgery, depending on the extent of the injury, but…,” the doctor continued, his voice trailing off.

Eiri glanced up sharply.

“But what?” Tohma asked.

“It may do more harm than good. Right now, there is a chance that with rehab, Shuichi will be able to walk again. He may not recover fully and he may have to use a cane, but he'll be able to walk.”

“And this surgery?” Hiro asked.

“May permanently paralyze him.”

“What're his chances?” Tohma asked calmly.

“About fifty-fifty I’m afraid.”

Eiri did not want to think about any of this right now. “I want to see him.”

“Of course,” Dr. Ohtani nodded.

“We'll wait here for you,” Mika told her brother.

Grateful, Eiri started to follow the doctor out into the hall.

“Dad,” came a soft voice from behind him.

Eiri stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Riku, his hair standing on end, was watching him with an indecipherable expression on his face. Eiri smiled gently. “Stay here with Aunt Mika.”

“But-”

“Let him go too, Eiri.”

Eiri glanced at his big sister. “Mika.”

“Shindou’s his--mother after all.”

She always had trouble with the fact that Riku, ever since he first met Shuichi when he was five, referred to Shuichi as “mom”. It took Shuichi a little while to get used to it as well. Eiri remembered Shuichi thinking that maybe Riku for some reason had trouble distinguishing the fact that he was a guy.

Eiri glanced from his sister to his son and sighed. “Alright. C’mon.”

Riku brightened up immediately. He picked his way through the crowd of people in the waiting room towards Eiri.

“Uesugi-san,” called a voice behind the writer.

Eiri turned and watched as the tall, toothpick-like police officers strolled over to him.

“When you get the chance, I would like for you to come down to the station and give your statement,” Officer Nada said. He pulled out a card and handed it to the writer. He also gave one to the doctor. “And when Shindou-san does wake up, we'd like it if you would call us.”

“Of course,” Dr. Ohtani said with a nod.

“One more thing, Doctor,” officer Maki said.

“Yes?”

“Was there any evidence of a sexual assault?”

Eiri’s heart just about stopped. Please, not again, he pleaded.

“Dad,” came Riku’s trembling voice from besides him. “What does that mean?”

“There was evidence of recent sexual activity,” Dr. Ohtani admitted.

Eiri felt the color drain from his face. Dear God, did that mean…?

“But, fortunately, there was no evidence of an assault.”

Eiri breathed another sigh of relief.

“Dad,” Riku called, yanking on the sleeve of his jacket.

“But if Shindou-san was unconscious…?” Officer Maki pressed.

Eiri glared evilly at him as the officer voiced the very thought he had been thinking. What was it with these people? Could they not let sleeping dogs lie?

“Dad.”

Dr. Ohtani shook his head. “Unconscious or not, it wouldn’t matter. The only evidence we have of any sexual activity took place several hours before his apparent abduction.”

The officers nodded and thanked them both for their cooperation before they left.

“Shall we?” Dr. Ohtani asked Eiri. He pushed the button on the wall and the doors swung open.

Eiri followed the doctor down the corridor to the ICU ward.

“Dad,” Riku pressed. “What did that mean back there?”

Eiri’s eye twitched, but he said nothing. He really did not want to think about what could have happened. All that mattered was that that bastard had not laid a hand on his Shuichi.

“Dad.” Riku reached out and grabbed his father’s arm when Eiri remained silent. “Dad!”

“Rape,” Eiri snapped. He spun around and glared at his son. “They wanted to know if that asshole had raped your mother.”

Riku’s olive complexion went white.

Eiri sighed, mentally kicking himself upside the head. “C’mon,” he said, draping an arm around his son’s shoulders. God was this boy getting tall. He gently steered him down the hall after the doctor. “Your mother is fine,” he whispered. “Shuichi kicked that guy’s ass before he could do anything. Your mama’s strong.”

Riku nodded and brushed at a stray tear. “I know.”

“Good. Then don’t worry, okay? He’ll pull through this.”

Again, Riku nodded.

They turned a corner and immediately two large black men standing outside of one of the rooms at the far end of the hall came into view. Eiri knew instantly which room Shuichi was in because he recognized the two men immediately. He could not remember what their names were, something like Blade and Marcus or something. They usually worked for Tohma as bodyguards for Nittle Grasper if he wasn’t mistaken. It seems Tohma reassigned them to guard Shuichi. They were wearing black jeans and tight black muscle shirts. Black holsters and black handguns blended invisibly with their clothes. These guys took their job seriously. They left their posts for no reason other than to protect their charge. As Eiri, Riku and the doctor approached, the men sized them up with long penetrating stares.

“Dr. Ohtani,” the one closest to them greeted with a nod.

“Gentlemen,” Dr. Ohtani nodded in English. Stepping aside, he indicated the writer. “This is Eiri Uesugi, Shuichi's husband and their son Riku. Uesugi-san, this is Blade,” the one closest to them, “and Marcus,” the one farthest from them. Bows were exchanged.

Looks like he got the names right.

Blade stepped aside to allow them into the room. Dr. Ohtani flicked the light switch on as he crossed the threshold and strode to Shuichi's side. Eiri stood right inside the doorway staring at his husband, or what he believed was his husband as Riku tore into the room and raced to his mother’s side. His legs refused to take him farther into the room. They flat out ignored the signals his brain was sending them. The door closed behind him, bumping into his back, forcing him to either walk into the room or annoy the guards. Swallowing, he walked with trepidation towards his comatose husband.

Dr. Ohtani stood at the foot of the bed, waiting patiently.

“Is Mama really going to be okay?” Riku asked Dr. Ohtani as he glanced up from the man who looked so small and helpless laying there in the hospital bed. Shuichi had bandages wrapped around his head and was practically in a body cast. The sight brought tears to Riku’s eyes. He swallowed around a lump in his throat.

Dr. Ohtani nodded. “Yes, Riku. He’ll be fine.”

Eiri stood besides Riku and gazed forlornly down at his husband. He felt so helpless. Shuichi was pale and what was not was wrapped in bandages was covered in bruises and cuts. Reaching out, he brushed a strand of Shuichi's black locks behind his ear. He hated seeing his lover like this. Shuichi was not supposed to be silent and still. It was as if they had been trapped in some sort of alternate universe. A lump formed in his throat. He took in a deep, shaky breath, letting it out slowly.

“Uesugi-san,” Dr. Ohtani said in a soft, gentle voice, stepping towards him. “There's something else I would like to talk to you about.”

With difficulty, Eiri forced his gaze from his husband to the doctor, his face carefully blank.

Dr. Ohtani’s gaze flitted to Riku who was watching him expectantly. “Why don’t we go into the ha-?”

Eiri shook his head. “No, it’s fine.”

Dr. Ohtani nodded. “I didn't want to bring it up in front of the others because I was not sure…” He let his voice fade. Sighing, he gazed down at his sleeping patient. “You noticed how his jeans were soaked in blood, right?”

A resurgence of panic engulfed Eiri. “What's wrong with him? Why was he bleeding? Is it-?”

“I'm sorry Uesugi-san, but Shuichi had a miscarriage.”

Eiri blinked stupidly at the doctor. Miscarriage? What was that supposed to mean? A miscarriage implied a baby, which meant a pregnancy and the last time Eiri checked, Shuichi was a guy and was not properly equipped.

“You mean Mama was pregnant?” Riku tried to clarify.

Dr. Ohtani nodded. “Yes, he was.” He shifted his gaze back to Eiri. “I am terribly sorry.”

“…Dr. Ohtani, I don’t know if you realized this, but Shuichi is a guy. Men cannot and do not have babies. There’s no way. No how…There-there’s no--room…”

“Actually, that’s not entirely true. It’s a misconception.”

Eiri continued to shake his head. “You must've gotten his test results mixed up with someone else's.”

“…Oh, my,” the doctor muttered in shock. “He never told you.”

“Told me what?”

“Uesugi-san,” Dr. Ohtani said, “Shindou-san is a Bearer.”

“A--what?” Eiri looked stupidly at the other man.

“A Bearer. It’s a term Shindou-san coined actually. It’s sort of like a hermaphrodite,” Dr. Ohtani explained.

Eiri merely blinked at the doctor.

“What does that mean?” Riku asked.

“It means your mother was born with fully functioning male as well as female parts. So, in essence, he has the ability to get pregnant.”

Eiri ground his fingers into his temples as he felt the beginning of a migraine. “So, what you're telling me is that Shuichi, my Shuichi, is a--a hermaphrodite.”

“Yes and no. You see, ‘hermaphrodite’ is the closest term there is to describe what Shindou-san is.” Dr. Ohtani studied the writer closely. “You really had no idea. Shindou-san never told you.”

Eiri stared blankly at the graying man before him. He just could not wrap his mind around any of this. “Shu was a…?”

“Yes.”

“And he was…?”

“Yes, he was.”

Lightheaded, Eiri stumbled backwards and collapsed into a chair. He dropped his head into his hands. This was all too much for him to take in. This has to be some sort of sick joke. First, Shuichi was in a coma, then he was paralyzed and now he’d had a miscarriage? None of this was making any sense.

Riku glanced from his father to the doctor and back again. He was totally lost. What was going on?

“…How…? How is that--even possible?”

“I am not sure,” Dr. Ohtani confessed. “I’ve been Shindou-san’s doctor since he was a child and from what his mother told me, it appears to be some sort of--genetic mutation that shows up in the oldest male of the Todono line every other generation or so, or if the son is the only child, he will have the mutation. Physically, they appear to be average males--at least externally, but internally…”

A hereditary mutation? Eiri was beginning to feel as if he had somehow stumbled into the Twilight Zone.

Dr. Ohtani laid a comforting hand on the Eiri’s shoulder. “I really am sorry, Uesugi-san.” Squeezing his shoulder, the doctor turned and left the ICU room, leaving a man to mourn.

 

* * *

 

**The Next Morning - Keio University Hospital**

The front lobby at the hospital had been commandeered. Representatives from every newspaper, magazine, television and radio station were present. There were cameras, photographers and sketch artists. The front desk usually worked by either volunteers or a receptionist was littered with microphones and tape recorders. Standing behind the desk was a blond haired, green-eyed man in his signature bowl hat and a fake smile plastered on his face. Despite the fact that he had been up for over twenty-four hours talking with doctors, police and making various arrangements, his suit was crisp, clean and unwrinkled.

Tohma watched the media swarm the lobby like ants to syrup. The air was a buzz as they spoke to each other and their station managers on their cellphones.

Sighing, Tohma cleared his throat. Immediately, silence fell upon the “press room”. Those who were standing and gathered in groups trouped to their seats, readying their pens and notebooks. “Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Tohma said softly, taking in the dozens of men and woman. Half of them were conservatively dressed in suits while the rest had on informal wear of jeans and T-shirts.

Bad Luck had been at the top of the charts since their debut on NG Productions about ten years ago. Through their vicissitudes, good times and bad, no matter what was going on in their personal lives, the guys never once disappointed their fans. Now, here he was, announcing that the country's number one band was going to be given an indefinite leave of absence. He has known Shuichi for a long time now and knew he would feel extremely guilty for letting down his fans like this, but the millions of fans would want their favorite singer to heal and get better more than anything and that was what Tohma was going to make sure Shuichi did.  
  
There was one question on everybody's mind today. Shindou Shuichi has not been seen in several days and because of a leak somewhere, the public already knew that there had been a halt in Bad Luck's activities, but nobody knew why, so rumors started floating around. Some people were saying Shuichi had been fired from the band. Others said there had been some internal dispute between the band and Tohma. There was even a rumor about the band breaking up. He heard one that said Shuichi left the band to go solo. People were wondering if whatever was going on with Bad Luck had to do with the public knowledge that Shuichi was flat out against the latest project they were working on. But the one that hit a little too close to home was the one that said Shuichi had been killed in a home invasion.

Unfortunately, an ambulance-chasing photographer caught sight of four covered bodies being transported out of an apartment building rumored to be the residence of Shindou Shuichi and Uesugi Eiri. When the photographer saw the famous writer hopping into one of the ambulances, he derived a conclusion. One of those bodies had indeed been that of Shuichi. Tohma told the EMTs to cover him because he did not want the press to swarm all over this before they were ready; unfortunately, things did not go as planned.

“Today I am not just speaking to you as the president of NG, but as the brother-in-law of Shindou-san and Eiri-san.” Let them try to find the hidden meaning behind that cryptic statement, he thought. “I would like to introduce you to Dr. Ohtani Tsuzuki, head physician here at Keio University Hospital.”

The middle-aged man stepped forward and bowed politely to Tohma as the man stepped aside. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I am Dr. Ohtani and Shindou-san's doctor. Yesterday at twelve-oh-five in the afternoon, Shindou-san was brought into the ER with a mild concussion, two broken arms, broken legs and some spinal damage.” He paused to take a breath and let the public take in the news. “At three-thirty that same afternoon, he slipped into a coma. Questions?”

“Doctor,” shouted the press, their hands waving in the air. “ Doctor!”

Dr. Ohtani pointed to a man in the back.

“Doctor, can you tell us what happened to Shindou-san?”

A plainclothes detective stepped forward. “If I may, doctor?”

The doctor stepped aside.

The detective was a short, skinny man in his mid-forties who did not like the type of music Bad Luck made. He was more of a classical music kind of man, but despite his adverse attitude towards “pop” music, he would do his job and help these people get some kind of closure so they could move on with their lives. “Unfortunately, we cannot discuss the details of an ongoing case, but what I can tell you is that Shindou-san was attacked in his home yesterday morning as he was leaving for work. Both of his bodyguards, unfortunately, were killed in the attack.”

As he stepped back, another question was hurtled to the men. “What will happen to Bad Luck?”

Tohma stepped to the microphone. “For now, I have given the guys an extended leave of absence and my full support. My staff and I will do everything in our power to help the guys in this critical time. And when the time comes that they want to return to the studio, we will welcome them eagerly.”

“What about their eagerly awaited greatest hits album that is scheduled to be released in two weeks?”

“I have talked it over with the guys and we've decided to release it as planned.”

“Do you think that's wise?” came another question. “People may think that you're trying to ride the coattails of this tragic event. Anything to sell albums.”

Tohma grew angry at that comment. His smile was still plastered on his face, but there was a sudden under current that told the reporter to fuck off. “It's no secret that Shindou-san was against this album, but he would not want all his hard work to go down the drain either. Everybody has worked too hard to just shelve it. We are releasing the album as scheduled because that is what Shindou-san would want.”

“Doctor, about Shindou-san's injuries! Are they serious?” came another question.

Dr. Ohtani stepped forward. “They are not life threatening. Unfortunately, the one we are keeping a close eye on is his spinal injury…”

 

* * *

 

As the press conference continued downstairs, a sullen man sat glued to his husband's side in ICU. Eiri refused to leave when visiting hours ended and the hospital staff did not have the heart to kick him out. Though he forced a sullen Riku to go home with Tohma and Mika yesterday and then promised him, he could come visit Shuichi after school was finished today. Riku had not been too happy about that. He wanted to skip school all together.

Eiri clutched his husband's wedding ring in one hand while his other one held onto the small finger's sticking out of the cast. Resting his forehead on their linked fingers, the writer took deep breaths to calm himself down as his chest and throat constricted around threatening sobs. In through the nose and out through the mouth. Seeing his husband lying in the bed, not sure if he would even wake up, filled him with such regret.

Eiri growled and mentally kicked himself.

Stop thinking like that, he scolded himself. Shuichi will pull through and be back to his normal hyperactive self in no time.

He gripped his husband's hand tighter while the other brushed away a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

A sudden commotion outside the hospital room had Eiri sitting up. Moments later, the door opened and in walked Tohma and Dr. Ohtani.

“Hello, Uesugi-san,” the doctor greeted. “How's our patient today?”

“The same,” Eiri said.

He watched as Dr. Ohtani crossed to Shuichi's bedside with a manila folder tucked under his arm. The doctor checked the instruments that were hooked to Shuichi, who seemed dwarfed in the huge white bed, before taking out a small penlight from his breast pocket and began checking Shuichi's throat, nostrils, pupils and ears.

“The press conference went really well,” Tohma informed him.

“Hm.”

“You'd better be forewarned, Eiri. Now that the public knows about Shuichi, you're going to be besieged with get well cards and gifts from fans.”

Eiri snorted. That was all he needed, to be surrounded by teddy bears. At least at home, the extra bedroom was where all the gifts were kept that Shuichi managed to accumulate--most of the gifts anyway; all the bras and underwear Eiri burned.

“Well,” Dr. Ohtani said as he stood up. He put his penlight in his coat pocket and tossed out the tongue depressor. “Everything seems fine.”

Eiri nodded, his hand still linked to his husband's. He laid his head against his husband's shoulders, silently demanding that he wake up.

The president of NG Productions glanced down at his long time friend and felt a well of sadness for his friend and brother-in-law. His always-present smile slipped off and was replaced by a true look of sadness. Sighing, he laid a hand on the doctor's arm and tilted his head towards the door.

Silently, the two men left the hospital room, letting a man grieve for what might have been.

 

* * *

 

_I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I yawned. My jaw popped and my eyes watered._

_I was lying on the floor staring blankly at the ceiling, or what I assumed was the ceiling. There was nothing for as far as the eye could see. Frowning, I propped myself up with my elbows and glanced around in confusion. Where am I? What was going on? There was absolutely nothing to see. It was an endless sea of nothingness. The vast whiteness seemed to go on forever._

_I sat up and tried to get to my feet, but fast realized they were not moving. I stared at them with a frown. Watching them intently, I flexed my feet, then my toes, but nothing happened. My legs remained as still as a corpse with rigor mortis. I quickly grew frustrated. Holding my breath, I willed my legs to move, even if it was just a twitch. I exhaled noisily when once again nothing happened_

_“Dammit.”_

_Once more, I tried to bend my legs so I could stand up, but it was useless. I could not move them. Silent laughter bubbled up inside of me. I could not move my legs. My laughter turned to sobs of frustration. Tears filled my eyes, blurring my vision. I slammed fisted hands into my thighs and wept harder, my silent sobs turning into heart wrenching wails when I felt absolutely nothing._

_No! This was not happening!_

_With a muffled scream, I slammed my fists into the floor. I suddenly froze and blinked back my tears as I heard the loud splash and felt something cold, wet and slimy encase my fist. Lifting my hand, I stared at the dark red coating dripping onto the cold, white floor._

_“What in the…?”_

_Curious and confused, I glanced down at the red puddle that circled me, trapping me like a lone island in the middle of the sea. My pulse quickened. I had a bad feeling. Where was all this blood coming from? I glanced down at myself and gasped. My heart skipped a beat. For the first time, I realized my pants were saturated in the thick, syrupy liquid. It was as if someone had washed them in a basin of blood and put them back on me still dripping wet. With my heart beating a rapid tempo in my chest, a horrific thought flooded over me. Was this blood coming from--me? I sobbed and fresh tears traced already worn groves down my cheeks._

_This was not happening! Dear Kami-sama, this was not happening!_

_Trembling, bloody hands flew to my belly._

_Please let this be just another nightmare!_

_Suddenly, a loud hiss reverberated through the white chamber. Startled, I glanced around. Right there, behind me, what had sounded like escaping air was a section of the white nothingness vanishing into a door-sized section of absolute blackness. There was no way in hell I was going to go through that doorway, even if it was to get out of here and back home to Eiri._

_In stereo, a double dose of what again sounded like escaping air echoed through the space. A quick look told me the doorway to nowhere was gone. There was not even a seam to indicate one had ever been there. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another chunk of space had vanished. This time, there was what appeared to be a small, private room of some sort._

_Confused and a little curious, I studied the room. In the center of the bedroom was a single hospital bed with white crisp sheets and a wool blanket folded at the foot. At the bedside was a machine that beeped steadily as well as, what I am guessing was, an IV drip hanging from a metal pole. Wires from the beeping machine and a thin tube from the drip were running to and disappeared within the folds of the bed, which, as I look closer, appears to have a form huddled underneath the sheets. A window on the far left hand side wall was covered by white blinds. Opposite were two chairs the same muddy brown as the wool blanket, which was the only color in the lifeless room._

_Into the picture stepped a man I knew all too well. I gasped at the rumbled form of my husband. His blond hair was sticking on end and he was in desperate need of a cut. His handsome face was hidden behind a grizzly mass of coarse beard hair. Dark circles made him look like he had two black eyes. His face was gaunt and his clothes were loose and baggy as if he had not been eating._

_“Eiri,” I sobbed. My vision blurred behind a veil of tears. Eiri was not taking care of himself! “Eiri,” I whined again. Nothing was more important than the health and well-being of my soul mate, nothing._

_Frantic to get to the man I loved more than anything I flopped onto my stomach. Grunting and gritting my teeth against the effort, I used my arms to drag myself towards my husband. A red trail followed in my wake. I huffed and puffed, the effort of dragging my half-lifeless body across the floor strained the muscles in my arms. In a short matter of time, they began to shake uncontrollably._

_Through tear-blurred vision, my sobs barely heard over the fierce beating of my heart, I watched my husband dragged one of the chairs by the door towards the bed. The blond writer reached out, clasped a small hand between his own, and placed a kiss on the knuckles._

_I had to get to my husband. “Eiri,” I sob hysterically. “Eiri!”_

_Tears gushed freely down my face. I forgot about my paralyzed legs dragging lifelessly behind me and my blood soaked pants and what that implied. I ignored my cramping arm muscles, everything. The only thing on my mind now was getting to Eiri._

_The door was now only inches away. A sudden surge of adrenaline pushed me forward. I settled myself onto the floor and reached out with one hand while the other one clawed at the floor, propelling me onward._

_“Eiri,” I cried. “Eiri!”_

_As I crawled towards my husband, I unconsciously crossed the threshold. The room began to brighten and dissolve into a blinding white light._

_“Eiri!”_

 

* * *

 

**Two months later - January**

Eiri settled himself into the uncomfortable chair and reaching out to brush aside a stray strand of hair from his beloved's face, smiled softly down at him. “Hey, baby,” he whispered. “Riku says ‘hi’. He said he‘d stop by after school. Of course he tried to get out of going to school all together once again.” He snorted. “He really is your son.” He sniffed. “Oh! You got tons of get well cards in the mail again today and another couple hundred stuffed animals and flowers. We're going to have to either get a bigger place or rent a second apartment just for all these damn things you seem to collect.”

Behind him, the door creaked open.

Eiri turned and watched as a small, blond haired figure stepped into the room.

“Or you could donate the stuff to an orphanage,” Tohma suggested.

The writer thought about that. It was not such a bad idea. Mizuki was always trying to get him to do something to help overcome the womanizing, playboy image he had not been able to shake, even though he had been a committed and loving partner for at least ten years. Besides, donating the thousands of toys and other gifts Shuichi had received over the years by his fans would free a lot of space in the apartment, space they could be using in the near future. Shuichi might not like that he was going to get rid of his things without his permission, but that was an issue they could discuss later.

“Do it,” croaked the broken whisper.

Eiri froze. His eyes grew wide. Afraid it was just his imagination, he turned slowly around. He was vaguely aware of his brother-in-law dashing out the door, his footsteps vanishing down the hall. Eiri's mind blanked as he stared at the man on the bed.

Violet eyes blinked up at him. Cracked, dry lips moved into a smile. “Ei--ri.”

“S-Shu-Shuichi?” Eiri was floored. Was this a dream or reality? For the past two months, he has had a reoccurring dream where he walks into the hospital room to find his husband awake, greeting him with a smile only. “Is it--Are you-?” He reached out with a trembling hand and traced the thin face.

The muscles in his face protested as Shuichi smiled. “Eiri,” he whispered with more confidence as his vocal cords got used to working again. He licked his lips and took in his husband's haggard appearance, his smile slipping. “You--look like--shit,” he whispered brokenly.

The blond writer threw himself at the smaller man, being careful of the wires. “Thank God,” he cried into Shuichi's hair. He held his husband in a viselike grip. If this truly was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. Pulling back, he clamped his hands on either side of his husband's head and stared deeply into his eyes. “God, Shuichi…” He did not realize he was crying until Shuichi scooped up a tear and licked the drop of water off his finger. Eiri kissed Shuichi long and hard, still crying, and then engulfed him in a bone-crunching hug.

Shuichi smiled as he wrapped his arms around his husband. Eiri was making it difficult to breathe and was crushing him to death, but took it all in stride. As he felt his usually reserved husband's body shake with sobs, Shuichi cried with him--unable to stop himself--and stroked his blond hair, comforting him. “I think--you missed me.”

“Baka,” Eiri cried, hugging him tighter.

Shuichi unconsciously tried to move, to get more comfortable and pull his husband down next to him, but realized all too quickly that no matter what he did, nothing worked. His eyes popped open. Pulling back from his husband, he stared at his legs. “E-Eiri.”

Eiri cupped Shuichi's face, staring tenderly at him. “What love?”

“My legs--why won't they…?”

Eiri grew still. “…Shuichi-”

The door to the private hospital room sprang open.

In stepped a winded Dr. Ohtani whose face was red and drenched in sweat. “Shindou-san,” the man breathed, trying to catch his breath. “It's good to see you finally awake.”

Behind him was Tohma, who seemed as cool as always.

Shuichi smiled at both men. Just as the door was closing, he caught sight of two black men-standing sentry outside of the door. Shuichi remembered from the last time Bad Luck and Nittle Grasper toured together, but what were they doing here? What happened to Jacob and Ko-?

_The man not worthy of an answer, Shuichi raced out of the room and down the hall towards the staircase. His gaze swept over the railing that separated the occupants from a two-story plummet and caught sight of the two prone figures lying sprawled out in the middle of the living room._

When Shuichi saw their still, unmoving bodies, he had known, though part of Shuichi had hoped that they had just been knocked unconscious. He felt a strong surge of guilt for the deaths of his guards. They may have been tricked by Yasashii Rinjin, but they were dead because they were supposed to protecting him.

“Jacob and Koji...Did-?”

Tohma nodded. “NG took care of all funeral expenses and arrangements. We even set up scholarships for their children.”

Shuichi nodded sadly. It was the least they could do, but still…

“Stop it,” Eiri snapped. “Don't you even start blaming yourself.”

Shuichi blinked and turned towards his husband in shock. Was he that easy to read?

“They were tricked by that bastard and died in the line of duty. They knew the risks and the consequences when they became bodyguards.”

Shuichi nodded. Eiri was right, but he still could not help but feel a little guilty because he was still alive.

“Survivor's guilt,” Dr. Ohtani said aloud.

The others stared at him, waiting for him to explain.

“It happens all the time. You have a bunch of people living through the same experience. Some die and some make it out alive. We will have one of our counselors come in and talk to you, Shindou-san. Alright?”

Shuichi was not too sure about a shrink, but he nodded.

“I'll go call the others,” Tohma said. “They've all been very worried.” He tipped his head and left the room.

Eiri stood up and walked around the bed to stand on the other side, giving the doctor room to examine Shuichi. He laced their hands together. He vowed to never let Shuichi go.

Shuichi gave his hand a gentle squeeze and smiled up at him.

Eiri bent over and brushed their lips together. He smiled, thinking how cute Shuichi was when he blushed.

“Do you remember what happened?” the doctor asked.

A picture of a pitch-black room flashed through Shuichi’s mind. He recalled that falsely sweet voice calling out, “Shu-han.” There was a carpeted hallway and a scuffle. He remembered Eiri bursting through the front door of the apartment to save him. He had decked that bastard Rinjin, then…The last thing he could remember was feeling a sense of weightlessness and a pair of horrified golden eyes vanishing room view, then nothing. He took a shaking breath. “I fell.” Shuichi shook his head. “What happened to…?”

“Rinjin-san?”

Shuichi nodded.

“Rinjin-san did not make it.”

“Bastard broke his neck,” Eiri supplied.

Shuichi's eyes widened in shock. Another surge of guilt flooded through him. All he had been trying to do was stop him. He had not meant to kill the man. What had he done? “I-I didn't mean to,” he cried. “I just-I tried to stop! I didn't--Eiri!”

Eiri sighed and rolled his eyes. It was as if they had gone back in time. Shuichi had not pulled this in years. Maybe that concussion had done something to his head. “Baka,” he snapped, tired of it already. “Stop with the fucking ego trip! Stop fucking thinking everything is your fault! It was not your fault the railing snapped. The police checked it out and discovered the support was loose. The damn thing would have fallen over had you sneezed on it!”

Shuichi blinked tear filled eyes. “Really?” he asked softly.

“Yes, really,” Eiri assured him just as softly. “Baka,” he added for good measure.

“So you don't-?”

Eiri growled and lashed out.

“Ow!” Shuichi's hands flew to the back of his head. “What the hell was that for?”

“Oh my,” Dr, Ohtani muttered.

“If you even utter those words, I swear I really will hate your guts,” he hissed.

A bright smile lit Shuichi's face. Eiri could not help but smile back. His energy and optimism were contagious.

Dr. Ohtani smiled softly. It was obvious that the two of them really did love each other. It was as plain as the nose on his face. His smile fell as he realized he would have to be the barer of bad news and erase that smile off his patient's face. “Shindou-san,” he sighed.

Shuichi tore his gaze away from his husband with much difficulty.

“There are a few things we need to discuss. First things first.” The doctor paused to take a breath. “I don't know if you're aware of this, but you've been in a coma for two months.”

That surprised Shuichi. Two months? That was hard to believe. Shuichi shook his head.

Dr. Ohtani exchanged a look with Eiri over the singer's head. “There's no easy way for me to say this but, I'm sure you are already well aware that your legs…”

Shuichi dropped his gaze to his legs stuck under the sheet. He tried once again to make them move, even a little bit, but like before, they remained stubbornly still. It was like the link between them and his brain had been severed or compromised in some way. Fresh tears filled his eyes. Did this mean he could never walk again? That he would be stuck in a wheelchair? He almost laughed aloud as he realized he had been looking forward to some much-needed R&R, but this was not how he pictured getting his time off.

“I'm paralyzed,” Shuichi muttered. A heavy weight settled on his shoulders. His throat tightened and his tears trailed down his face.

There, I said it, he thought sadly. I cannot walk.

He chuckled softly. “I'm paralyzed.”

Eiri glanced at his husband with a frown. He laid his free hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. He startled when Shuichi shook his hands away.

“Don't touch me,” the singer hissed, sobbing. “Just don't--touch me!”

“Shuichi, what-?”

“Stop,” Shuichi screamed, batting the writer's hands away.

Dr. Ohtani had seen this coming. It always happens. “Shindou-san, it's not as bad as-”

Shuichi shook his head. “Just--How can you…?” He buried his face in his hands and sobbed. He was half a man. Broken. Forever would he be dependent on someone else. He would need help to go to the bathroom, to get in and out of bed, to just get up the steps to their bedroom. Eiri told him, it seems like several hundred times, that he hated how clingy Shuichi was. So, how different was it now? Eiri would have to take care of him like the invalid that he was. How could Eiri want a man that would not be able to even take a piss by himself? How could he say, “I love you” to a paralyzed man? Was it just pity or out of a sense of obligation? He did not know how he would be able to accept it if that was the case. He was just a useless, half-dead man that did not deserve the love and support of those around him.

Eiri studied his husband in growing disgust. Shuichi's emotions played across his face like a movie screen. “You stupid asinine…” Eiri snapped angrily. He slapped his husband upside the head once again. He could not believe the thing that went through Shuichi's mind.

Shuichi's head snapped forward and he hissed in pain. He covered the bump on the back of his head. Tears continued to pour down his face. “How,” he cried softly. “How could-?”

“Shut up you stupid idiot,” Eiri yelled.

“But-”

“No! I do not want to hear any more of your ego trips, hear me? I nearly lost you, you damn brat!” Eiri pulled Shuichi to him, hugging him close. “Idiot,” he whispered. “Do you have any idea what you've put me through these past two months?”

Shuichi buried his face in the crook of his husband's neck and bawled, his body shaking with his sobs. He wrapped his arms around the man's waist.

“I don't care if you can't walk, Shu-chan,” Eiri continued. “I'll be your legs! I'll carry you everywhere! Besides,” he added, “it just means you won't be running all over the house and jumping me the second I come into the door.”

That got Shuichi laughing.

“And we'll have to come up with some more creative ways to have sex,” Eiri whispered huskily.

A rosy blush tinted Shuichi's face. He peeked at the doctor before burying his face in Eiri's chest, embarrassed he would say such a thing in public.

“Besides,” the writer continued, “Dr. Ohtani said there's a possibility that you might be able to walk again.”

Shuichi pulled away from Eiri with a gasp. He stared at him in shock, and then turned towards his doctor with wide hopeful eyes. “Really? Is that true?”

Dr. Ohtani nodded. “Yes, it is. We could do two things. One, there is surgery that would repair the damage sustained during your fall. This could help you to walk again, but there is also a chance that the surgery may cause you permanent paralysis. Two, you could skip the surgery and go straight to rehab. Either way, if you learn how to walk again, you will most likely have to use a cane for the rest of your life.”

Shuichi felt as if all his energy had been sucked out of him. He slid out of his husband's arms and collapsed onto the bed.

He was not sure what was better. He had a better chance at walking again if he went in for the surgery, but if the surgery failed, he would not get a second shot. On the other hand, there was always a chance that he would walk if he went straight to rehab. He leaned his head back against his pillows and stared at the ceiling, fighting the need to cry.

“Don't worry about it now. Sleep on it. Alright?”

Shuichi nodded.

“In the mean time, there are a few other things we need to discuss.” Dr. Ohtani paused and took a deep breath. “In the fall, you received a mild concussion. Are you experiencing any headaches, lightheadedness, memory problems--anything at all?”

Shuichi shook his head to each of them.

“Good,” Dr. Ohtani nodded. “You also broke arms and legs. They have healed completely. Are you experiencing any pain or discomfort?”

Shuichi again shook his head. His arms felt fine, but as for his legs--How was he supposed to know?

“Good. Good.” Once again, the doctor exchanged a knowing look with Eiri. He glanced down at the singer. “Shindou-san, in the fall…”

Shuichi blindly reached out for his husband's hand. When Eiri linked their fingers together, the singer's vision blurred with fresh tears and his throat tightened as he fought back his sobs. His other hand flew to his flat stomach. The image of his bloodied pants popped into his mind. “My baby…”

Dr. Ohtani shook his head. “I'm sorry, Shindou-san.”

A loud sob burst from the singer's lips. He let go of Eiri's hand and buried his face in his hands. He had hoped all that blood had been from some internal injury, not from the life he and his husband had created together.

Eiri studied his husband sadly. He rubbed his back in slow lazy circles. “It's alright, Shu-chan. We'll try again. That's all.”

Again? Try again? As in get a replacement? No, that was not right. Children were not things. “No,” whispered through his tears, shaking his head.

Eiri's hand stilled. “What?”

Shuichi lifted his head. “No.” He turned a red face shinny with shed tears towards his husband. “I-I can't! Please! I don't want--I don't think…”

“Shh,” Eiri hushed the depressed man, enveloping him in his arms. “It's alright, Shu. I sorta got used to the idea of having a baby with you, but if it's not something you want to do…”

“What?” Shuichi sniffed and stared at Eiri through his tears in shock. “You mean…You're not angry that I never told you…?” He stared at his husband astonished. “A-and you…You want…”

Eiri smiled at the man. Cupping Shuichi's cheek, he wrapped his other arm around his waist and nodded. “When I first heard you'd had a miscarriage, I thought it was all a mistake that they'd looked at the wrong x-rays, or something. Then Dr. Ohtani told me about you being a Bearer. I couldn't--I thought he was joking. I mean, only plants and animals can be hermaphrodites. I've never heard of a human--I mean there are transvestites, but that’s completely different--It took me awhile to wrap my mind around the fact that not only was the doctor not joking, but the fact that you'd lied to me for ten years.”

Tears tickled down Shuichi's face. “I'm sorry! I-“

“I'm still a little mad that you've been lying to me but I've had time to think about it and I would love to have a baby with you.”

With a sob, Shuichi cried into his husband's button down dress shirt.

“Who else knows?” Eiri asked quietly as he rubbed his hand in lazy circles around his husband's back.

Shuichi lifted his head and wiped at his tear-drenched face. “Uhm, my parents, Grandma and Grandpa Shindou, Grandma and Grandpa Todono, Maiko and Dr. Ohtani.”

“Why didn't you ever tell me?”

“I was afraid, I guess,” Shuichi muttered, wrapping his arms around Eiri's waist and leaning against his chest. How were you supposed to tell the man you want to spend the rest of your life with that you are, essentially, a freak of nature? “I was scared that you’d think I was some sort of--freak and that you'd leave me.” He stared earnestly into his husband's face. “When I thought you'd leave me, I just-I just couldn't face you! I couldn't tell you!”

“Oh, Shu.” Eiri hugged Shuichi tightly. “I won't leave you because of that! I love you for you! I fell in love with you, not your gender, not because of who you are or aren't--You.”

With tears trialing down his face, Shuichi squeezed Eiri, thankful his fears had been dumbfounded.

Dr. Ohtani cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed to be witnessing such a private moment. “Uhm, Shindou-san, Uesugi-san, I have other patients that I must see to, but if either of you have any questions, or anything, press the call button next to the bed and the nurses will be happy to help you. In the morning, we'll do a full physical exam, alright?”

Shuichi nodded and wiped his wet face.

“Oh and the police are going to want to speak with you about what happened.”

The color drained from Shuichi's face as the events of that day circled in his head. He trembled as he stared at the doctor. All he wanted was to forget.

“Now get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Eiri said, bowing.

Dr. Ohtani bowed back, said goodbye and left the two lovers alone.

Eiri pulled away from Shuichi and reached into his pocket. “I think this belongs to you,” he told his husband holding his hand.

Shuichi blinked and sitting back, held out hand. A smile brightened through the tears. “My wedding ring.” He started to slip it back on, but Eiri snatched it out of his fingers. “Huh? Eiri, wha-?”

Holding the small hand within his, Eiri gently slid the gold band onto his husband's ring finger, right where it belonged. He lifted Shuichi's hand and placed an open mouth kiss on the deep, rich rose Sri Lanka Spinal. “I love you Shindou Shuichi,” he confessed, holding his hands lightly within his own, his thumb rubbing over the wedding ring.

Shuichi blushed deeply. “I love you, too, Uesugi Eiri.”

Eiri pulled his husband against him, snuggling against him. It felt so good to be holding his little baka again.

Shuichi giggled and pulled away. “No booty until you freshen up.” He ran a hand over the foreign hair growth. “Especially not until you shave this Ewoke from your face.” He jabbed a finger into the writer's stomach. “And eat something. You look like you're wasting away.”

Eiri snorted. “Anything else, Master?”

“Nothing for now,” Shuichi laughed.

Eiri nudged him over and lay down besides him. He wrapped him close. “Shu…I'm sorry,” he whispered against Shuichi's hair after several minutes of silence.

“Huh?” Shuichi tried to pry himself away to get a better look at Eiri's face, but the man's grip on him was unmovable.

“I was an idiot for not listening to you about Rinjin.”

Shuichi smiled. Usually, he argued with Eiri whenever he apologized because in his mind, Eiri could do no wrong. He, Shuichi, was the idiot who screwed everything up. But he has learned to savor those moments when Eiri decided to step off his high horse and apologize like the rest of the common folk. He always ended up accepting it anyway. So, why bother?

Suddenly a huge yawn seized him.

Eiri chuckled. Shuichi was more predictable than the weather. Not surprising, all his crying and the roller coaster ride his emotions have gone on seemed to have taken their toll on the singer. Sliding off the bed, Eiri placed a chaste kiss on Shuichi's head. “Get some sleep. I’ll be back later with Riku, freshly shaven and after having eaten,” he added when Shuichi opened his mouth.

Shuichi pushed himself down on the bed and snuggled under the blankets. Eiri leaned over and brushed their lips together. “I love you, Eiri.”

“I know.”

With a smile on his face, Shuichi closed his eyes and fell into a restful slumber.

 

* * *

 

**One month later - February**

_I wake disoriented from a deep, dreamless slumber to find myself surrounded by an eternal night. It is a thick impenetrable darkness, a pea soup of black nothingness so dense I could see nothing, not the vague shape of objects surrounding me, or my hand in front of my face. I can hear nothing but the pounding of my own heart and the sound of my own ragged breathing. There was no breeze rustling through the trees, no birds chirping, and no crying squirrels. I could not hear the constant noise of the city. There was nothing._

_Out of the darkness came a vague shape. Then it popped suddenly in front of me, hovering in my face. It was as if I lost a moment of time. I try to scream but nothing comes out. Shock envelopes me._

_My attention is caught by the pale white skeletal hand. I try to crawl away from it but my legs refuse to budge. It’s as if they are encased in cement blocks. Gritting my teeth, I continue to jerk my lead weight limbs, but it is futile._

_I feel something against my cheek. It is a soft, gentle, warm and loving touch. It gives me comfort and makes me feel good, but suddenly, like a switch being flicked, it becomes harsh, rough, cold and threatening. Where the hand is becomes cold and icy that quickly spreads, chasing away my warmth. My teeth start to chatter and I shake, my whole body tightening in reaction._

_Try as I might, not only can I not get my legs to move, but now nothing is responding._

_I squeeze my eyes shut. Tears slipped out from under my lids and make trails down my cheeks. I am so cold it surprises me that my tears do not turn to ice crystals._

_Another hand on my thigh. I gasp audibly, but still I cannot make any vocal sounds._

_Suddenly the cold vanishes, as does the hand on my face and thigh. Warmth spreads quickly back into my body. Then movement returns to the upper half of my body. Though, my legs still felt like they were trapped in stone._

_A choked cry escapes my lips, as the ground underneath me becomes the same consistency as quicksand. I start to sink into the gross mass. It feels like a sponge that has become too waterlogged to hold any more liquid. I try struggling against the suction, but it only succeeds in making me sink faster._

_Vaguely, I am aware that the cool liquid engulfing me is thicker than water and has a strange smell to it, almost metallic-y, but then all thought vanished as everything around me disappeared. I was suddenly freefalling from a lofty height. The only thing I see is a pair of horror filled golden hazel eyes as the sound of rushing air filled my ears._

 

* * *

 

The sound of screaming from room 513 startled the two bodyguards. They stormed into the room with weapons drawn.

It brought a deeply engrossed writer out of the world he was creating where the male lead had fallen into a deep state of despair after his lover had fallen into a coma after the dilapidated building they were inspecting collapsed around them. Eiri caught his laptop as it slid off his lap when he flew to his feet. Setting his computer onto the chair besides him, he rushed to his husband's side. Enveloping his screaming and thrashing lover in his arms, he glanced at the two men Tohma hired to protect them and nodded. They holstered their guns and left the room, shutting the door behind them.

All of them were used to Shuichi's nightmares by now, but the men still jumped the gun. “It's better to be safe than sorry,” they claimed. Already, Eiri liked these guys better than Koji and Jacob. No offense, but Shuichi's other bodyguards had been nothing more than fancy accessories. They were there to look threatening, nothing more.

“Shuichi,” Eiri called softly. He winced as the singer's screams deafened him. “Shu-chan. Baby.” He cursed and doubled over in pain when Shuichi’s foot connected with his side. That was it. Growling, Eiri shook his husband. “Snap the hell out of it before I give you something to really scream about!” When in doubt, give him either an order or a threat. It was the only way to snap Shuichi out of it. Silence immediately descended upon the hospital room and Shuichi stilled in the writer's arms. Eiri stepped back, rubbing his bruised side and watched as violet eyes fluttered open.

Shuichi stared about him in confusion and growing fright. He started to hyperventilate, but when he finally caught sight of Eiri standing besides the bed, relief flooded across his face. “Eiri,” he smiled. He reached out for his husband but the blond man only stared at him with a strange look on his face as he held a hand over his side. Concern and worry filled Shuichi. “Eiri,” he called. He sat up and studied his husband closely. “Eiri, what's wrong?”

Eiri could do nothing but point.

Shuichi looked where Eiri was pointing, suspicious, and then back at his husband. “Eiri-” He cut himself off. His eyes widened. He glanced back down at his legs. While his left one still lay straight and still, his right leg lay bent, the bottom of his foot lying against his left thigh. He could feel the roughness of the bottom of his foot as it lay against his leg. “Eiri.” He lifted a shocked face to his husband, an identical expression on his face. “Eiri, m-my…”

Eiri got hold of himself. Flinging back the sheet, he stared down at the leg. “Try moving it again,” he ordered.

Shuichi looked at his leg, doubtful, and bit his lip. More than anything, he would like to be able to walk out of this hospital and get back to his old, normal life, but it has been a month since he awoke from his coma and he has not even felt so much as an itch in the lower half of his body.

Gulping, Shuichi nodded and looked down at his leg. He laughed in delight as he watched his foot flex. He glanced at his husband with a huge smile on his face. “It moved!”

Despite himself, Eiri felt tears welling up in his eyes as he watched Shuichi's leg move one centimeter at a time until his foot was pressed up against the opposite knee. He could not believe it!

“Eiri,” Shuichi cried.

Eiri looked at his husband. Tears flowed down Shuichi's face. A smile graced Eiri's lips as Shuichi flung himself at him with a squeal. Eiri wrapped his arm around his husband, holding him tightly as the smaller man cried onto his shoulder. A tear slipped down the writer's face unseen.

Both turned as the door creaked open. In stepped Riku.

“Riku,” Shuichi exclaimed through his tears

Riku, in his black school uniform and with his thirty-pound backpack slung over his shoulder, looked from Shuichi to Eiri. “What?”

oOo

Nakano Residence

The Nakano residence was quiet as both mother and son slept.

Hiro took a long drag of his cigarette as he noted the time. Blowing out a thin line of smoke into the late evening air, he glanced over his shoulder at the phone sitting on the end table in the living room through the closed patio door. He crushed out the cigarette butt in the ashtray. He had been trying to cut back, for the sake of the baby, but when he burst into Rinjin's apartment and saw his best friend lying in a boneless heap…He knew Ayaka disapproved of his smoking habit, but she also understood.

Sighing, Hiro leaned his head back against the side of the apartment building, one leg dangling off the side of the concrete railing he was sitting on and the other bent before him.

“Shuichi…”

He wished-

The shrill ringing of the phone had Hiro tumbling off the side of the balcony with a curse. At the same time, Kazahaya announced he was up with that loud siren wail of his. He cursed again, tripping over his coffee cup that had been sitting at his feet that he had forgotten about. The black liquid spilled in an ever-widening arc, but Hiro ignored the mess. He tossed open the patio doors and raced into the apartment. Hiro picked up the phone mid-ring. “Suguru?” he breathed quietly into the phone. He glanced over his shoulders towards where the shrill crying that echoed through the apartment.

On other end of the line, Tatsuha pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it in confusion. “Hiro? It's Tatsuha.”

Tatsuha? Shit, Hiro thought, cringing. “Yeah, Tatsuha. What's up?”

There was a long pause. “Is that Kaza-kun?”

“Unfortunately,” Hiro sighed running his fingers through his hair.

“Oo! Did I wake him?”

“Actually, yeah, you did, but don't worry about it.” The apartment suddenly quieted and Hiro sighed in relief. The red-haired guitarist flopped onto the couch. “Never have kids, Tatsuha,” he warned the man. “I thought I was used to this having been friends with Shu for so long, but…”

Tatsuha chuckled. “Is Ayaka-san there?”

“Yeah.” Hiro leaned forward. “The only time she gets to sleep is when Kazahaya is asleep.”

“That sucks. I don't envy you.”

Hiro snorted. “Thanks. So, what's up Tatsuha?”

“Aniki called me. Apparently, Shu was able to move his leg.”

“What!?” Hiro flew up, wide eyed.

“Yep.”

Lightheaded, Hiro fell back onto the couch. “Wow,” he whispered. “When did this happen? I thought you said Shu couldn't feel or move anything below his waist?”

“I know! It's weird. Before today, he couldn't.”

Hiro did not know what to think about that. Shuichi was something else.

“It seems he has a little feeling in his left thigh and almost all feeling back in his right,” Tatsuha continued.

“That's…incredible.” To say the least, he added silently. Just yesterday, Shuichi had been this wheelchair bound invalid and now…Wow, was about all he could think of to say to that. Not to be pessimistic, but… “Are they sure it was not a muscle spasm, or something?”

“Jeeze, Hiro, negative much?”

Hiro sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I know. It's just…”

“…Say, Hiro?” Tatsuha asked tentatively in the silence that fell.

“Yeah?”

“About Suguru-“

In the background, Hiro could hear a door open, then a high-pitched voice cry out, “Tat-su-ha!”

“In here, Ryu,” Tatsuha shouted. “I gotta go. Aniki wanted me to pass along the good news,” he rushed out. “Bye!”

Before Hiro could say anything, he found himself listening to the dial tone. Blinking, he held the phone away from his ear and stared at it. He shook his head and hung up.

_“About Suguru-”_

Hiro heaved a huge sigh of relief as he leaned back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling blankly. That had been a close one.

“Are you going to see him?” asked the soft voice.

Startled, Hiro sat up, blinking at his wife of five years. Ayaka stood in the doorway swaying, a chubby Kazahaya in her arms sucking away at a binki. Her long brown hair was mussed. She had dark circles around exhausted eyes. “Go, Hiro, if for nothing more than to introduce him to his nephew.”

Hiro gazed into his son's big brown eyes. Standing up, he crossed the room and gazed down at the life he and this woman created. A soft smile graced his face as he stared at his son. “Alright,” he agreed. “It's time I stop running.”

 

* * *

 

**A week later - Keio University Hospital**

Shuichi ached all over. He had never been so exhausted and in such pain before in his life. For the past hour, he has been in the rehabilitation ward doing various exercises, including “walking” on that damned catwalk-ramp-thingy, whatever it was called, or trying to anyway.

For as much improvement as his right leg seemed to have made suddenly, his left one had made none at all. The feeling may have started to return, but trying to move it was like trying to move dead weight, which was why it was covered in brush burns from having dragged it along the walking ramp. His right leg, on the other hand, moved as if he was trapped underwater with a weight strapped around his ankle. At least it moved, though, which was an improvement from a week ago.

Now though, Eiri was wheeling him back to his room with Marcus at his back. Blade, on the other hand, had taken a reluctant Riku home. The boy had finals coming up on Monday. Eiri’d had to threaten their son with the, “if you don’t study and fail the exam, I’ll bet you ‘til your ass is red and raw and then ground you until your twenty-one,” line. Of course, Eiri would never lay a hand on Riku. Shuichi would kick his ass from here to Kokomo.

When the elevator pinged and the doors slid open, Eiri rolled his husband inside. Marcus stepped on next and stood right inside the elevator doors where he pushed the button for their floor.

Shuichi yawned, his eyes watering and his jaw popping. Shaking his head, he reached up with his left hand and held Eiri's hand. He looked up and smiled at his husband.

The writer leaned down and kissed him chastely.

“I love you,” Shuichi whispered.

Eiri chuckled. “I know,” he answered with a knowing smile.

“Can we,” Shuichi asked around a yawn, “go outside? Please, Eiri? It's so-” He paused to yawn yet again. “-boring here. Please? I want to go outside,” he whined.

The elevator jolted to a stop at their floor. Seconds later, a ping sounded and the doors slid open. After checking the corridor, Marcus led the way back to the room.

“Later,” Eiri answered.

Shuichi pouted and crossed his arms over his chest, looking even younger than he already did. “No! Now! C'mon, Eiri! I hate being cooped up in this damn place! I wanna go! I wanna leave!”

Eiri rolled his eyes as he stopped in front of the hospital room.

Marcus entered the room and did a quick but thorough search. “Clear,” he announced in English. He stepped outside to let the Uesugi’s enter the room and closed the door behind them.

“Eiri,” Shuichi continued to whine around a yawn as he rubbed his tried, achy eyes.

Eiri sighed heavily. “You can hardly keep your eyes open,” he stated firmly as he wheeled the wheelchair towards the bed. He placed the brakes on and ignoring his husband's continued protestations and whines, slipped one arm under Shuichi's knees and wrapped the other around his back. Bending his knees, he lifted his lover from the chair and carried him to the bed.

“Eiri,” Shuichi snapped angrily. “Are you listening to me?”

“No.”

Despite the fact that he could not stop yawning and could not keep his eyes open, Shuichi continued to beg his husband to take him outside.

Tired of hearing Shuichi's whines, Eiri sighed in defeat. “For Christ’s sake! All right already. I'll take you out, but only if you take a nap.”

Shuichi's complaints and bellyaching suddenly switched off. His mouth snapped shut and a bright smile lit his face. “Really? You'll take me outside?” His eyes shinned, grinning madly. He bounced on the bed in delight.

Eiri could not help himself. He had no idea how, but Shuichi's happiness was very contagious. Whenever he was happy, so was everyone around him. That was probably what made Bad Luck so popular. He studied his overly tired husband, a slight smile on his face.

“Yes! Eiri, I love-“

“You have to take a nap first,” Eiri reminded with a harsh tone.

The smile slipped off Shuichi’s face and the light vanished from his face. It was like taking off a mask, it was that smooth.

Eiri cursed himself and his damned husband. He swore the damned brat did that deliberately sometimes, just so he could get his way. “I'll make a deal with you,” he sighed. He sat down on the bed besides his husband.

Shuichi looked up hopefully.

“Take a nap-”

The pout returned.

“-and I'll see about getting you back home.”

Shuichi's face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?”

“Really,” Eiri smirked back.

“Really, really?”

“Shu-chan,” Eiri snapped.

Giddy at the prospect of getting out of what he considered a sterile hellhole and ignoring the aches and pains from his body, Shuichi flung himself at his husband and kissed him hard. He was feeling wide-awake now.

Eiri brought his hand up to the back of Shuichi’s head and threading his fingers through Shuichi’s long black locks, he yanked Shuichi’s head back, ripping a startled gasp from Shuichi, and brought their lips together roughly. While he plundered his husband’s mouth, Eiri’s other hand slipped beneath the waistband of Shuichi’s pajama bottoms.

Shuichi jolted at first when he felt his husband's fingers probing his ass hole. He gasped, tensing for a second before relaxing and submitting to the will of the man he loved more than anything else. Shuichi moaned into Eiri's mouth and trailed his hands to the buttons on the man's shirt, undoing them as shivers raced along his spine. “Eiri,” he gasped against the writer's lips.

It had been such a long time since they had been together. Both men grew hard instantly.

Eiri left a trail of kisses along Shuichi's jaw, neck and lower to his collarbone, eliciting mewls and sighs. He slipped a hand under Shuichi's shirt and tweaked the nipple to life. Shuichi gasped and arched into Eiri's touch.

This--this was it. This was what he had missed.

Shuichi pulled away from Eiri as he flung open the man’s shirt and ran his hands up his chest to his broad shoulders, up his thick neck then back down to the buckle of his pants. Shuichi heard Eiri's sharp indrawn breath as he grabbed him through his pants. He unzipped Eiri's pants and stroked the hard length he found inside, extracting a sharp cry from the man it belonged to.

“Damn brat,” Eiri growled.

Eiri clutched Shuichi’s small wrists within his larger one and holding them above Shuichi's head, pushed open Shuichi legs with his free hand as he pressed Shuichi onto the bed. He knelt between Shuichi’s parted legs.

With a hot blush coloring his cheeks and his eyes shinning in anticipation and lust, Shuichi watched his husband as he lowered himself onto him.

Eiri leaned down to kiss him, when the door creaked open.

“Excuse me, Sir,” came the deep baritone voice in English.

The lovers flew apart.

His face flushed with embarrassment, Shuichi disappeared under the covers with a squeak as Eiri cursed soundly.

“What?” Eiri snapped back in English as he fixed himself.

“I'm sorry, Sir, but there is someone here to see Mr. Shindou,” Marcus apologized, still in English.

“Who?” Eiri demanded. Whoever it was, was going to be shot and killed. God dammit!

Hearing the exchange, Shuichi carefully lowered the corner of the blanket and peered out. “Eiri, what is it?” he asked timidly.

“Visitor.”

“Who?” Shuichi asked curiously.

“It's a Mr. Nakano, Sir,” Marcus said.

Eiri's brow shot up. Well, well, he thought.

While Shuichi had no idea what was being said, the name of his best friend got his attention. “Nakano?”

“ _Hai_ ,” Marcus nodded. It was one of the only phrases he knew in Japanese.

“Hello, Shuichi,” came a familiar voice from behind the guard.

Shuichi looked up as the bodyguard--he could not remember his name because Western names were so difficult to say and remember--turned around, a hand went automatically to his gun. “Hiro,” he breathed, seeing his red-haired friend.

Marcus threw a questioning glance at Eiri.

Eiri sighed. Against his better judgment, he nodded.

The bodyguard stepped aside to allow the man to enter the room, pushing a baby stroller before him.

Hiro glanced briefly at Eiri and flinched at the murderous expression that crossed his face. “Hey, Shuichi,” he greeted cautiously, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the writer.

“Hiro,” Shuichi whispered.

Eiri shut the door with a resounding slam and had the pleasure of seeing the red-haired guitarist jump in fright. Not bothering to hide his contempt of the younger man, the writer strolled around the bed and lounged at Shuichi's side, draping an arm around his shoulders. “To what do we owe the honor of this unexpected visit?”

 

**…To Be Continued…**

**A/N 1** : Todono is Shuichi’s mother’s maiden name in this series

**A/N 2:** I have to point out that “hermaphrodite” Shuichi in this series (who I refer to as a “Bearer”) is nothing like the real life Hermaphrodite and is also nothing like the Hermaphrodite in another series I will soon be uploading (who I refer to as “Neutrals”), where they are a true third gender. In this series, Shuichi isn’t actually a hermaphrodite as his ability to have children comes from his demon heritage (another trait of this heritage are his psychic dreams). This fact is not really discussed in the story, though having a demon ancestor is mentioned briefly in the sequel.


	6. To Be Home Sweet Home

**Chapter 6: To Be Home Sweet Home**

**Keio University Hospital**

“Eiri,” Shuichi scolded with a look over his shoulder at his husband.

The blond writer looked at him innocently. Shuichi could just imagine the celestial halo circling his head, held up of course by a pair of devil horns. Shuichi snorted and rolled his eyes at the image.

“No,” said Hiro's soft voice. “It’s okay.”

Shuichi turned back around to stare incredibly at the red-haired guitarist.

“I deserved that.”

“What kind of crap is that? Hiro, you’re my best friend! There's no excuse for Eiri treating you like that,” Shuichi snapped. He cast his writer husband a side-glance. “Even if he doesn't particularly like you.”

Eiri looked at him with a raised brow as if to say, “Who me?”

“How can you say that?” Hiro asked Shuichi softly.

“Say what?” Shuichi asked in confusion.

Hiro sighed. “I should have listened to you about Rinjin. If I had,” he shook his head, “maybe none of this would have happened.”

Shuichi glanced sadly at his friend’s guilt ridden face. Admittedly, he had been so angry and frustrated that nobody had taken him seriously when he expressed his misgivings of Rinjin. In retrospect, though, Shuichi could understand their reluctance. Rinjin had been unlike any other stalker or any other overzealous fan. The man had acted the part of the great friend and confident. Shuichi could blame them for being taken in. So, he decided to tell Hiro the same thing he told everyone else.

“Michael, Kei and Kai told me months ago that since Rinjin hadn't done anything, there was nothing you could have done. When he did, he struck in the early morning when I was leaving for work. He waited until I was alone.” He stared intently at Hiro. “Even if you’d believed me, there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent what happened. If it wasn’t then, than it would’ve been another day.”

The only ones who could have helped had abandoned their posts because of a text message they assumed was from Seguchi-san.

Hiro stared at his friend in shock for several long seconds and then chuckled. “That’s so out of character for you,” he teased.

“Huh?” Shuichi blinked in confusion. He had a feeling he was being made fun of, but was not sure exactly how.

Behind him, Eiri chuckled. “I guess even you have your moments.”

Shuichi glared evilly at him. “What's that supposed to mean?” he snapped.

“It means you're an idiot.”

“I am not,” Shuichi pouted, hurt. “I know I'm not very smart and that graduating high school was just a fluke, but-“

“Baka,” Eiri sighed. He leaned down and pressed his lips against his husband's temple. “I was kidding, you moron,” he whispered.

“Oh.” Shuichi blushed crimson, silently scolding himself.

Hiro smiled warmly at the couple. Their relationship may have started out rocky, to say the least, but through thick and thin, they stayed together. No matter what the cold bastard did to Shuichi, the singer kept running back each time. It was obvious to anybody with half a brain in their head that these two needed one another in order to have balance in their lives. It was as if they were each other's heart and lungs, something you could not live without. They were perfect for one another, two parts of a whole. They were so in love that Hiro was surprised that it had taken them this long to finally be hitched.

His smile slipped into a deep frown as he remembered that day. It should have been the happiest day of their lives and instead…

Hiro sighed heavily. “I've been afraid to come here and see you,” he told his friend truthfully. “The last time I saw you…”

Shuichi lowered his eyes and stared at his lap, remembering that day all too well.

The memory of that day was still all too fresh in Eiri's mind as well. A renewed surge of anger flashed through him.

“Hiro,” Shuichi whispered. He threw his fellow band mate a sad glance but quickly looked away. “I…”

“I can apologize till I'm blue in the face, but it won't make up for what I did. Kai called me as I was leaving your place and he said that Eiri called that morning to say that you weren’t coming in. Apparently, he forgot. I felt like such a fool and still do.”

“I--Kai came to see me a couple weeks ago and he explained everything to me,” Shuichi said. “I understand why you did what you did, why you barged into my apartment and I-I do understand Hiro.”

Hiro breathed a sigh of relief.

“But…I still can't forgive you. I don't know if I ever will.”

That was understandable. Hiro nodded slowly. He had known that, but it still hurt. Shuichi could forgive just about anything anybody did to him, but what Hiro did that day was something even Shuichi would not be able to forgive. He would never forgive himself for destroying their friendship. His head shot up when he felt a smaller hand engulf his fisted hand on the bed. “Shuichi?”

“But you are my friend,” Shuichi said with a grin.

Hiro could not help but smile back. “Thank you, Shuichi,” he sighed, relieved.

“And friends look out for one another, right?”

“Yeah, you're right,” Hiro nodded, smiling widely.

Eiri snorted. “I guess you really aren't as dumb as you look,” he told his husband.

“Hey! Even I have my moments,” Shuichi snapped, turning to glare at his husband. His anger turned to confusion as the other men in the room chuckled. “Uh, I don't think that came out right.” That made them laugh even harder.

Suddenly, a loud wail overrode the laughter, startling them. All eyes turned in unison to the stroller by the door. Sighing heavily, Hiro closed his eyes for a second and muttered something under his breath. Opening his eyes, he reached inside the carriage. When his friend straightened, Shuichi cooed at the sight of the chubby baby cradled in Hiro's arms.

A tiny set of lungs lot loose a tidal wave of misery. The noise grated on Eiri's nerves. This is what he wanted with Shuichi? Buddha, help me, he silently prayed.

“Oh, Hiro,” Shuichi cooed, his eyes sparkling. “Is that…?”

“Um hm. Shuichi, I'd like you to meet my son, Nakano Kazahaya.”

“Oh! How old is he?”

Hiro stepped closer to the bed so that Shuichi could get a better look at Kazahaya. “Twelve weeks.”

“He's so chubby! Oh, Hiro, look at those cheeks!” Shuichi giggled and reached out to touch Kazahaya's tiny-fisted hands. Immediately, silence filtered through the room. Shuichi laughed harder when Kazahaya grabbed his finger.

Hiro blinked in amazement and shock. His son never acted like this with anyone, not even him and Ayaka. It usually took them several minutes of rocking or a binki to quiet him down. But all Shuichi did was touch his hand. How the bloody hell did he do that? He watched his son open cloudy brown eyes.

Shuichi giggled as he watched the baby intently as he studied his surroundings.

“Would you like to hold him?” Hiro asked softly.

Shuichi's head snapped up, his eyes wide. “Really? Could I?”

Hiro nodded.

Shuichi held out his arms as Hiro gladly handed him Kazahaya.

Hiro smiled and stepped back to watch his friend and then turned to look at Eiri who was now up standing besides the bed. He was watching his husband with a smile playing with the corner of his lips. His whole face had a strange gentleness to it. Hiro was taken back. Shuichi always spoke about there being another side to the man, but he never witnessed it first hand before. This was the first time he ever saw the cold, angry, stoic writer act so human before. It felt almost as if he stepped into an alternate universe. This was just more proof that the two of them belonged together. Hiro turned back to Shuichi.

Shuichi was a natural.

“Hi! I'm your uncle Shuichi and that drop dead gorgeous hunk over there is Uncle Eiri!”

Eiri snorted, rolling his eyes while at the same time feeling his face grow warm at the compliment. “Don’t you mean aunt Shuichi?” he teased.

Shuichi tossed his husband a glare.

Eiri smirked.

Ignoring Eiri with a toss of his head and a ‘humph’, Shuichi glanced down at his nephew. His face beamed and his eyes twinkled with laughter. “You're so cute,” he cooed. “Yes, you are!”

Kazahaya's face split into a face-eating grin.

“Yeah! You are the cutest thing and I bet you're so spoiled, aren't you? Spoiled little Kaza-kun!”

Kazahaya laughed, his face crinkled up in laughter.

To Shuichi it was the most beautiful sound in the world. It was like the sun revealing itself after a storm, but it also pained the singer. As fast as he was growing fond and attached to his nephew, it also hurt. Shuichi lifted his head and glanced at Eiri with tears prickling his eyes.

Something flashed across both Shuichi's and Eiri's faces that Hiro could not decipher.

Shuichi smiled down at Kazahaya who was staring up at him. An overwhelming sense of loss swept over him. If things had gone differently…

In that instant, Shuichi came to a decision. He looked up at Eiri, knowing that his face was an open book.

I want this, his expression screamed. I want this.

 

* * *

 

“He's a beautiful baby,” Shuichi told his friend quietly as Hiro gently put his sleeping son in the stroller.

“Thank you.” Hiro straightened. He had a beaming smile plastered on his face as he watched his son.

“He looks like Ayaka-san.”

Hiro smiled wistfully. “Her looks and hopefully my talent.” Turning around, he once again caught sight of the yearning expression on both Shuichi and Eiri's faces and wondered just what was going through their minds.

A huge yawn seized Shuichi. He rubbed heavy lidded eyes, fighting the strong urge to rest his eyes.

“Alright,” Eiri commanded, watching his husband's drawn haggard face. “That's enough for today.”

As predicted, Shuichi whined in protest, despite the fact he knew Eiri was right. He could hardly keep his eyes open all of a sudden. H e figured the adrenaline rush he received due to the arrival of his best friend and new nephew was wearing off.

Eiri shot him a look.

Shuichi clamped his mouth shut and smiled sheepishly.

Hiro chuckled nervously. “It's alright, Shu. I should get going anyway.” The two friends embraced, but Hiro quickly pulled away when he noticed a warning glint in the blond writer's eyes. He swallowed. Never before had he been so aware of someone's disapproval before. “I'll visit again,” he comforted his friend as he maneuvered the stroller to the hospital room door. “We're going to Kyoto on Monday for a week or so. I guess Usami-san has been really sick lately.”

“Oh, I hope he's going to be alright,” Shuichi said over a yawn.

Hiro chuckled as he skirted the stroller to hold open the door to push the stroller through. “The old codger is so damn stubborn; he'd make Death work around his schedule.” Propping the door open with his back, Hiro wheeled his son out of the room.

“Say ‘hi' to Ayaka-san for me,” Shuichi called after him.

“I will,” Hiro nodded. “See ya later, Shu.”

“Bye, Hiro!”

When the door shut behind Hiro, Eiri linked their fingers together. Their wedding rings clinked. Eiri brought their clasped hands up and placed a tiny kiss on each of his husband's fingertips.

Blushing, Shuichi smiled at him. “I love you,” he whispered. He yawned again.

Eiri returned his smile and ran a hand over Shuichi's hair, noticing the soft silky feel of it as it ran through his fingers. “I know,” he said. “Now go to sleep.”

Shuichi snuggled down under the covers. “Remember,” he yawned. “You promised.”

“So I did.” Eiri leaned down and kissed his forehead.

“You won't forget?”

“No, I won't forget. I'll go talk to Dr. Ohtani now.”

Shuichi's eyes popped open and he flew up, all thoughts of sleep vanishing like snow in June. Fear and anxiety raced across his face. With wide eyes, a pounding heart and sweat breaking out all over his body, he grabbed hold of his husband and frantically searched his face. “Don't leave me,” he practically shouted in rising panic. “Please, don't leave me!”

Images flashed through his mind, of him outside their apartment, alone, with an advancing Rinjin, a covetous gleam in his eyes. He remembered waking up in total darkness and silence, again alone with Rinjin, hearing those falsely, insane words. _“I won't hurt you, you know that! I'm here to help you! I want to save you...I love you…We belong together…Believe what you want, Shu-han. For you are mine…I'm doing all this for us, Shu-han, for our future!”_

Not again! Not ever again! He never wanted to be alone again!

Eiri blinked, startled at the singer's outburst, then sighed heavily and pulled Shuichi into a hug. “How many times do we have to go through this? I won't leave you,” he stated firmly.

Shuichi clung to him, suddenly crying and shaking.

Eiri rolled his eyes heavenward and muttered silently to himself.

For some reason, Shuichi's separation anxiety and abandonment issues had returned worse than ever since he woke from his coma. If Eiri was not in the room when he woke up, he threw a fit and literally went berserk.

His first night out of the coma, Shuichi woke up after a particularly disturbing nightmare to discover that his husband was not in the room with him. It did not matter that visitation hours were over and that Eiri had been forced to go back home. The only thing he knew was that Eiri was not there. He had abandoned him. He started screaming and thrashing about so widely that the hospital staff had been forced to sedate him. For the rest of the week, the very same thing happened. It got to such a point they had to prescribe some sleeping pills for him to take before he went to bed at night.

Sometimes, Shuichi was fine, but other times, like now, he refused to allow Eiri out of his sight. If he could, Shuichi would handcuff the writer to him so that he could not go anywhere without first alerting him. When he got like this, Eiri waited until Shuichi was asleep before he left and made sure he returned before Shuichi woke. It did not matter if someone else was in the room with him when he got like this. Nobody could calm him down but Eiri at times like these, not even his own parents.

Shuichi admitted he was afraid. He feared that once out of his sight, Eiri would disappear and he would never see him again. It was like how young children thought before they learned the difference. Out of sight, out of mind. If they could not see it then it was gone.

“Don't leave me! Please, don't leave me! Please,” Shuichi mumbled repeatedly.

Eiri shushed him, holding him tight. “I promise you, Shuichi. I will not ever let you go. I almost lost you once and I don't plan on ever going through that again.” He chocked back a sob. “You scared the shit out of me, Shu-chan and I promise you, now and forever, I won't ever let you go.”

He continued to rock and console Shuichi, reassuring him that everything was going to be all right until he felt his husband's body relax and his breathing even. He pried Shuichi off him and gently pushed him back onto the bed. With a smirk, he pressed their lips together then quietly walked out of the room, thinking, He is so cute.

 

* * *

 

_It was a dream. Part of me knew that, but it was so real that the other part did not want to believe it._

_I was lying in bed besides Eiri's softly snoring form. The moonlight filtered in through the shades covering the window across the room, throwing a soft glow about the bedroom._

_Tossing back the sheets, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and grabbed the pink lacquer cane leaning against the nightstand. Quietly, so I did not disturb my sleeping husband, I creep out of the room and tiptoe down the hall to the extra bedroom that at one time housed all the awards Bad Luck had received and all the stuffed animals and things our fans had given me. The awards had been moved into the room Eiri used as his office and all the stuffed animals and whatnot had been donated to various children's charities a year ago._

_As I near the door, I notice it is open._

_Entering the room, I see the lamp that looks like a bunny rabbit had been turned on and was acting as a nightlight. The ceiling fan was also on. It seems that there was a new study out that said having a fan on in an infant’s room was supposed to help keep the baby from suffering from the effects that led to SIDS._

_I walk across the room towards two white cribs that sat at opposite angles to the room's only window. A smile grew on my face. Standing between the cribs, I glance down at the small forms sleeping on their stomachs with a rolled up blanket placed under their side to keep them from smothering their faces in the mattress. I am not sure if babies were supposed to lie on their backs or their stomachs. It was always going back forth, but I asked my mother and she said to put the boys on their stomachs like this. Being a first time mother to newborns, I still worry though. My mother said it was only natural._

_My boys’ faces were hidden in shadow, but I knew. These were my boys, my two lovely boys. Smiling down at them, I silently thank Buddha and Kami-sama for this wonderful blessing and miracle._

_Placing my cane against the side of the crib to my left, I reach a hand inside and trace my son's cheek lightly._   
_A noise from behind me drew my attention. I glance over my shoulder and smile at the tall man standing in the doorway. Turning back around, I smile down at my boys._

 

* * *

 

**The Next Morning**

Violet eyes fluttered open and stared at the window across from the bed blankly. He was vaguely aware that the shades had been drawn over the windows. They had been open when he fell asleep.

With a yawn, he flipped onto his back and stretched. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then ran his fingers through his bed head hair. Sighing, he glanced about the small room that had become his home for the past four months and for the first time noticed that he was alone.

He flew up in bed, panting heavily and feeling a surge of fear rush through him. His heart started racing and he began to sweat. He was alone just like that day. The memory flashed through his mind, as fresh as if it had just happened. He pictured himself walking down the dark, silent hall, alone, his guards nowhere in sight.

“Eiri,” he shouted. “Eiri! Eiri!”

No, no, no! Where was he? He promised! He swore he would not leave. That he would stay with him! He promised! Had something happened to him? Oh, dear, Kami-sama! Was Eiri hurt? He could be lying bleeding and unconscious in a gutter somewhere right now! No!

“Eiri! Eiri,” he cried hysterically. “Eiri!”

How he heard the door open over his ear splitting wails and cries for his husband was something nobody could figure out, or ever would.

At the first sound of their clients screams, the two bodyguards shot into action. Drawing their guns, they flung open the door to the hospital room. With expert precision, their gaze and guns swept over the room, taking in everything at once.

Shuichi sat in the bed, his face red and drenched with tears. He glanced at the door, hopeful, but his hopes were shattered when he realized it was only his bodyguards and not his husband. Fresh tears trailed down his face. He buried his face in his hands and cried. His body shook with unchecked sobs.

Marcus glanced at his partner and chucked his head towards the door. Blade inclined his head and exited the room, re-holstering his piece as he went. Shutting the door behind him, he retook his post. Meanwhile, Marcus put up his gun as well. “Mr. Shindou,” he called, trying to be heard over the man's continuing cries.

“Where's Eiri,” Shuichi sobbed. “Where is he? Why isn't he here?”

“Mr. Uesugi will be here shortly,” Marcus told his young client in an effort to comfort the younger man, despite the fact that Shuichi would not be able to understand a word he was saying.

Shuichi only sobbed louder and cried harder.

The door opened behind them. Marcus, a hand on the butt of his gun, turned sharply. Shuichi's tears stopped and silence descended upon the room once again. He turned hopeful eyes towards the door, but was once again disappointed. Shuichi dropped his face in his hands and started bawling. His tiny frame shook. He collapsed into a ball in the middle of the bed and sobbed.

“Is there a problem?” the nurse in purple pants uniform asked in heavily accented English.

Marcus shook his head. “Everything is fine,” he assured the woman.

The nurse bowed and left, shutting the door behind her, but not before throwing one last look at the bundle of misery sitting on the bed crying his eyes out.

Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, Marcus left the room and took up his post on the other side of the door. He tossed a skeptical look at his partner.

A loud ping sounded down the hall and both men glanced questioningly and guardedly down the hall as the elevator opened. They relaxed noticeably as the tall blond haired writer strode confidently out of the elevator towards them.

Eiri had not taken more than half a dozen steps when he became aware of loud, pitiful wails emanating down the hall. With an annoyed, irritable sigh, he rolled his eyes, then closed them briefly and said a silent prayer. Reopening them, he marched down the hall, passing the nurses station on the way. One of them tried to gain his attention, most likely to tell him to please silence Shuichi because he was disturbing the other patients. He ignored her.

“Mr. Uesugi,” Marcus greeted with a curt nod.

“How long has he been like this?” Eiri asked in English with a tired sigh.

“Just a few minutes, Sir.”

Shuichi sounded like he had lost his best friend. With another sigh, Eiri pushed open the door and before he could take one-step over the threshold, a small, black blur barreled towards him, nearly knocking him over. Eiri grabbed onto the door jam trying to stabilize himself and to keep from flying backwards with a sound curse as the air was squeezed out of him.

Sobbing and shaking, Shuichi latched onto his husband like a koala.

“Damn brat,” Eiri snapped. “What the hell are you doing?”

The trembling ball of snot and never-ending tears and distress wept out an explanation or an excuse of some sort that was completely muffled and censored by his hysterical sobs, none of which Eiri could understand or decipher, but he did not need a translator to understand what his husband was saying. He has been spewing the same nonsense for the past month. When he felt Shuichi starting to collapse, Eiri scooped him up bridal style and carried him back to the bed. He cuddled with the pintsized singer, letting him vent. The jest of the whole episode was that Eiri was a bastard for lying and not being here as he promised.

“I promised I'd never let you go, didn't I?”

With his face pressed against Eiri's shirt and his arms hugging him as if he was the last solid object in a sea of water, Shuichi nodded.

“And did I abandon you?” Eiri asked calmly and slowly as if he was talking to a hysterical child.

“You did,” Shuichi accused with a sob. He lifted a tear stained face towards his husband. “But you did!”

Eiri shook his head. “No, I did not,” he stated firmly but softly.

“You did! You did,” Shuichi chanted pounding his fists against Eiri's chest.

Wrapping his arms around Shuichi, he held him tightly, rocking him and whispering in his ear, trying to calm him down. “I did not abandon you,” he whispered. “I went to speak to Dr. Ohtani after you fell asleep yesterday like I promised you I would and then I had to leave when visitation hours ended.”

That got Shuichi's attention. Silence once again fell onto the hospital room. Shuichi lifted a face red from crying, flooded with tears, and glanced at Eiri with hopeful, patient eyes.

Eiri ran a hand through his husband's soft, black hair, noticing for the first time that he needed a haircut. He raked his eyes over his husband as he quietly, but assuredly told him, “I asked him if it would be alright if I took you home.”

Shuichi sat back and watched him intently.

“I told him that no matter what he said, I was going to take you home.”

His patience was starting to wane. Shuichi started bouncing up and down on the bed in growing impatience. “Eiri,” he whined. “What did he say?” He grabbed hold of Eiri's shirt and tugged it as he searched Eiri’s face intently. “C'mon! Tell me! Tell me!”

Prying Shuichi's fingers off his shirt, Eiri held his arms at his sides and pecked his nose. “Tonight, you'll be in your own bed,” he whispered. Eiri kissed a trail, starting from Shuichi's lush, pink lips, along his jaw line to his ear. He bit his earlobe gently and suckled it.

Shuichi moaned and tilted his head back to give him better access.

“Where,” Eiri continued his voice low and husky, “I can finally fuck you until you can't move.” He pulled back, noticed Shuichi’s flushed face and his eyes filled with lust.

Shuichi's tongue poked out of his mouth and ran along his lips.

Eiri followed the movement and felt his own libido stir to life. He swallowed and cleared his throat, shifting as his pants became restrictive. All Eiri wanted to do at that moment was throw his lithe lover down on the bed and fuck him silly, but unfortunately…

Over the loud speaker came a garbles page for a doctor to report to the OR.

To get his mind off what his other head wanted, Eiri stood up, ignoring his husband's pout and groan of disappointment. He walked around the bed towards the window, but paused mid-stride when a realization hit him. “Shuichi…”

“Hm?”

Eiri turned around and watched his husband settle back onto the bed. “How were you able to walk to the door?”

Shuichi blinked, startled and confused. “Huh?”

“You clobbered me as soon as I entered the room.”

“Oh.” He blushed deeply, turning his head away. “I wanted to go find you and kinda, uh, forgot…”

Eiri studied his husband with a raised eyebrow as his blush deepened into a deep red flush. With a snort, Eiri shook his head. “Baka.”

Shuichi peered at his husband, smiling.

 

* * *

 

Dr. Ohtani was against sending Shuichi home, but did not have a choice. Uesugi-san wanted his husband released and brought home. What Uesugi Eiri wanted, Uesugi Eiri got, especially when he had friends in high places. One call from Seguchi Tohma, one not so carefully veiled threat, and the release forms were being signed.

After dinner, Shuichi was given a full physical examination. Dr. Ohtani was surprised at how much progress the singer was making in such a short time. A month ago, Shuichi had been completely paralyzed from the waist down and now, his right leg was improving at such an incredible rate that it if this kept up, it would be back to normal in no time. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought Shuichi would regain the ability to walk. Yes, there had been a chance, a very good one, but reality and possibility were two very different realms.

While possibility appeared at the front door, reality was in the dining room eating dinner. Unlike his right leg, his left one was not faring so well. The feeling had returned, but unfortunately, it remained stubbornly impassive. It will not as much as twitch. Just for that alone, Dr. Ohtani wanted Shuichi to remain in the hospital for a bit longer, but that was not going to happen.

Dr. Ohtani stood at his office window watching as Uesugi Eiri and Shindou Shuichi’s adopted son Riku wheeled Shuichi to the black Mercedes waiting right outside the front doors of the hospital.

One of the bodyguards placed a suitcase in the trunk of the car as Eiri helped his husband into the backseat. The second bodyguard stood like a sentry behind and slightly to the right of Eiri and his son with a blank expression on his face. His sharp eyes flashed around in such a way that left no room to question that he was on the job. The first suited goon took the state-of-the-art wheelchair, secured just an hour ago by none other than Seguchi Tohma and folded it down. There would be no cheap hospital contraption for the Uesugi-Shindou's. It was placed in the trunk next to the suitcase.

While Riku scrambled into the backseat, Eiri leaned into the car and gave his husband a quick chaste kiss before shutting the door and rounding the car to get in on the other side. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and Riku stepped back out of the car. Eiri slid into the backseat, apparently to sit next to his husband, ruffling his son’s hair in the process. With a scowl, Riku slid into the car after his father. The door shut. The two hired goons got into the front seat and moments later the car sped off.

Dr. Ohtani wished them luck. They would need it.

 

* * *

 

**En Route**

Despite the seat belt and his half-paralyzed torso, Shuichi still managed to curl himself up against his husband. His head rested against Eiri's chest. His arms were wrapped around his waist and his good leg was using Eiri's legs as a footrest. Eiri's arm was draped around his lithe lover's shoulders, holding him securely to his side.

Eiri lifted his hand and studied his wedding ring over Shuichi's back. The gold band shinned and the three carat elongated oval Australian Tiger Iron glittered brown, black, deep red and gold in the late afternoon sun.

Draping his arm back around his husbands shoulder, he hugged him close. “Ya know, this little stunt of yours really screwed everything up,” Eiri mock scolded.

Shuichi lifted his head and stared at his husband in confusion. “What?”

Feeling inexplicably chilly all of a sudden, Eiri grabbed the back of his husband's head and returned him to his earlier position. “I mean, we were supposed to go on our honeymoon, remember?”

Shuichi blushed and bit back a smile.

That was right. Eiri had gone to meet Mizuki-san to reschedule various appearances and whatnot in order to take his new husband on a special trip. Shuichi had been given the special duty of talking to Tohma when he went into work that morning.

He cuddled closer to his husband, feeling his heart soaring.

“And then you had to go and pull a Sleeping Beauty,” he smirked over Shuichi's head.

Shuichi's smile slipped. “Hey,” he frowned. Sitting up, he pouted at his life partner, causing Eiri's side to get cold once again. “That's not fair! Eiri-“

“Baka,” Eiri whispered affectionately. He cupped the side of his husband's face and pressed their lips together. Pulling away, he smiled as he saw a light blush color Shuichi's cheeks. “You're cute when you blush,” he found himself saying.

Shuichi's blush deepened. He dropped his head, avoiding his lover's soft gaze and cuddled back into him.

Riku found himself trying not to vomit. Really, he should be used to his parents being so lovey-dovey by now. When Eiri was stoic, he was cold and ruthless with all his heart, but when it was one of those rare times when he became all romantic and gushy, he was that with all of his heart too. He should just be happy that his parents were so in love. But really! Did they have to do in front of him? Ah!

Eiri chuckled and hugged Shuichi. He rested his cheek on top of Shuichi’s head and smiled. It felt so good to be holding his singer again and to be going home. He looked forward to sleeping next to him once again. He especially could not wait to make love to him. He has felt like a ravenous wolf these last four months. It was like a bad case of cabin fever and it was driving him insane. All he wanted to do was possess his husband in every sense of the word. He wanted to stake his claim and mark his territory. He wanted to fuck the singer, but that was not what he was going to do. He was going to make sweet love to the man he planned to spend the rest of his life with, nice and slow and gentle.

“We still get to go, right?” Shuichi mumbled against his shirt, tightening his hold. He yawned, his eyes fluttering shut.

Scooting down in the seat, Eiri leaned his head against the top of the seat. “We'll talk when we get home.”

Shuichi did not like that answer. He lifted his head and gazed deeply into his husband's eyes, pleading with him to give him something, some semblance of a normal life once again. “We will, right? Eiri?”

Eiri lifted his head, saw the puppy dog eyes, and suddenly felt guilty. He swallowed it back. “We'll talk when we get home,” he told him firmly. He gently pushed Shuichi back down. “We have a lot to talk about.”

Shuichi did not like that either. He buried his face in his husband's shirt, frowning. He suddenly felt a heavy tightness in his chest.

Lifting his hand, he studied his wedding ring through a blur of tears. The gold band shinned beautifully in the bright late afternoon sun. A brown star shinned in the eight black opals and the deep, rich rose pink Sri Lanka spinal in the center sparkled as the sunlight hit the ring.

Shuichi felt his throat constrict around a sob.

Did Eiri regret marrying him now that there was a chance that he would never be able to walk properly again? Now that he would not be able to slink and prance around on stage like he used to, sidling up against his band mates in a sly attempt to make Eiri jealous while at the same time getting the audience riddled up, would Eiri still come to his shows? With him having to learn to be independent again, to be able to go up and down the stairs in their apartment, to get in and out of bed, to dress himself, bathe himself, would Eiri stick by him knowing that he had to take care of a man that already depended on him for continuing balance in his life? Was Eiri already regretting his promise to stay by his side through it all? God, he hoped not. He needed Eiri. Without him, he was nothing. He would die a slow death without his husband at his side and he did not mean that just metaphorically. “E-Eiri?”

The man made some sort of indecipherable noise.

“D-do you…do you regret-?”

Eiri's head snapped up. He grabbed Shuichi in blind fury and glowered at him.

Shuichi cowered under his husband's gaze, wincing as Eiri's fingers dug into his arms. “Ow! Eiri, you're hurting me!”

In the front seats, the guards peeked in the side and rearview mirrors at the couple, but said and did nothing.

Riku’s head snapped around. Holding his breath, he watched the scene intently out of the corner of his eye.

Eiri shook Shuichi, barely suppressing the urge to hit him. He may have slapped him in order to wake him from his nightmares and smacked him upside the head when he was being stupid, but he would never ever hit him in anger. Though, in the beginning of their relationship, he had kicked him around a few times, but he had not done so since and did not intended to ever do so again. He would do nothing to risk losing what he had with Shuichi. “What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped irately. “Why would you ask something so stupid?”

Shuichi bowed his head as tears trickled down his face silently. “I just…It's just that I'm not--I'm not the same as I was. I can't-“

“Shut the fuck up, you stupid ass!” Eiri pulled his husband into a tight hug. “I don't regret anything, you hear me? And if you start this bull crap, I'll beat you senseless, understand?”

Shuichi wrapped his arms around his husband and wept into his shirt.

Both embarrassed at witnessing such a tender moment and relieved that the fight had not been anything too serious to worry about Riku avoided the scene and turned back to staring out the car window. The city whizzed by in a blur of color. Maybe he should have stayed home.

“Do you think I would have put my life on hold these past three months and stayed by your side this whole time if I had any regrets? Do you think I would have defied the doctor's orders and brought you home?” Eiri cupped Shuichi's face and pulled away, glancing into his watery violet eyes. “Do you think I would have regrets when all I want to do is sweep you in my arms and carry you to bed where I plan on keeping you up all night?” he whispered sweetly, causing Shuichi to blush, his eyes shinning with the beginning of lust. Eiri lifted Shuichi's left hand and placed a light kiss on Shuichi's wedding ring. “Do you think I would have placed this on your finger if I had any regrets? Do you think I would be here now if I had any?” Eiri cupped Shuichi’s face again. “We've been together for ten years, Shu. If I wanted to leave, I would just do it, but I'm here and this is where I plan on staying until the day we die.”

“Oh, Eiri!” His face full of tears, Shuichi threw himself at his husband, hugging him tightly. “I love you so much!”

Eiri hugged Shuichi back, a stray tear trickling down his face. “I know. I know,” he echoed softly.

Riku rolled his eyes. His parents were something else. Though he could not keep a smile from his lips.

 

* * *

 

**Uesugi-Shindou Residence**

When they finally pulled up to their apartment building, the little family was happy to see that once again they had thwarted the media. It was peaceably quiet, or at least, as quiet as it got in Tokyo. They knew that they would have to set up a press conference within the next few days, but for right now, they were wallowing in the tranquility.

One of the bodyguards popped the trunk and Eiri got out to fetch the wheelchair. Riku took his mama’s luggage.

Eiri had no idea how his brother-in-law managed to get hold of the wheelchair such a short time. It was an electric wheelchair. It was also one of only a handful in the whole world. Eiri was not sure how it worked, but somehow using the lever on the arm you could lift the chair up so that the wheels acted like a kind of lift so when you went out for a walk with someone you could be at the same height. Another feature the chair had was the ability to go up and down steps. That function scared Eiri. He could just picture Shuichi spilling down the stairs face first. He had no intention whatsoever in allowing his husband to even try that. If he had to, he would carry the singer up and down the apartment stairs every five minutes if need be, but there was no way Shuichi was going to walk up those steps in this contraption.

Eiri shook that image aside violently as he unfolded the chair. He locked the brakes and stepped aside to watch Shuichi scoot out of the backseat and into the chair without any help. Eiri smiled and felt a surge of pride. He retrieved his husband's suitcase and stood by the trunk, watching as a variety of emotions swept across Shuichi’s face. He watched the effort it took for Shuichi to gather the confidence to overcome his fears. Pushing away from the trunk, he walked up to the singer. “Ready?”

Not really, Shuichi thought uneasily peering up at the apartment building. Swallowing back his fear, Shuichi smiled at his husband. “Yes.” Or as much as I can be, he added silently. He covered Eiri's hand that rested on his shoulder. “Let's go home.”

Shuichi grabbed the lever and propelled himself forward like a pro.

Riku followed slowly behind. He regretted volunteering to take his mama’s suitcase. It weighed a bazillion tons. What in the world did he have in it? Bricks?

Marcus followed them inside the building while Blade went to park the car. Other than Koji and Jacob, Shuichi used to have a chauffer. With him being as well known as he was, it was impossible for him to take public transportation anymore. Even in disguise, he was easily recognizable. Apparently, Tohma had fired his driver. Either that or the man was on an extended leave of absence. It was something Shuichi would have to remember to bring up the next time he saw the president.

The whole ride up the elevator was a nerve-racking experience for Shuichi. Riku was trying to say something to him, but it was all background noise as with each passing floor, he felt the anxiety, fear, uncertainty and the ambiguity close around him. They clouded his mind, numbing him to the joy he felt at finally being able to go home. He gripped his hands together in his lap to keep them from shaking. He felt his heart beating a rapid tattoo in his chest, felt it pounding painfully and heard the blood rushing in his ears. He took deep, even breaths to try to quell the rising panic. The last thing he wanted or needed was to start hyperventilating. He had to be strong. He had to overcome this. He could not let it run his life.

When the elevator pinged, Shuichi whispered in a confident voice, “I can do this.”

When the doors slid open, Marcus stepped out first to do a quick sweep. When the coast was clear, he stepped aside and allowed his clients to exit the elevator. Shuichi flew out of the elevator and down the hallway, determined not to let this horrible event hold him back, but he could not stop the memories that came flying back.

 

* * *

 

_“Hello, Shindou-san.”_

_Shuichi turned, expecting it to be Koji or Jacob, but instead he gasped. He took a step back as a figure stepped out of the shadowy doorway. “Ri-Rinjin.”_

_The singer continued to back away slowly. His heart was racing. It was beating a rapid and uneven tempo against his breast. His breath came out in wheezing pants. He was dry mouthed and his palms were slick with sweat. He was shaking violently and his stomach was churning. Saliva filled his mouth like a leaky faucet. He swallowed sharply. His ran his tongue along lips gone dry._

_“I heard you got married,” Yasashii accused angrily as he strode towards the terrified singer._

_Shuichi stared at the man in shock and surprise. “H-how did you…?” The only person other than Eiri and himself who knew was Seguchi-san. How had Rinjin found out? Pale and feeling slightly lightheaded, Shuichi glanced around him in growing desperation._

* * *

 

When the memory faded, Shuichi found he was sitting outside the apartment where his life had taken a drastic and unexpected turn. Trembling visibly, he stared at the newly restored door. “Eiri? I want to go in,” he told his husband in a shaky but firm voice as the blond writer stepped up besides him.

Riku gazed from the apartment door to his mother and then glanced up at his father.

Eiri sighed. He was not sure if that would be possible. A month after the incident, the police finally released the apartment and the landlord immediately contacted Rinjin's family and demanded they come and clear out his things. He then sent Eiri a bill for the door and the railing he and Shuichi damaged. One call to Tohma and the landlord suddenly reconsidered. Two weeks after the apartment had been handed back to the landlord, a new family had taken residence. “I don't know-”

“Please, Eiri.” Shuichi turned pleading eyes to his husband.

“Why do you want to go in for Mama?”

Shuichi locked eyes with his son. He smiled softly. “Because I have to.”

“But why?”

“…It’s something I just have to do.”

Eiri sighed. “It's late, Shu. Why don't we wait until tomorrow? I'll talk to the tenants in the morning.”

Shuichi's face brightened and held out his arms towards his husband.

Eiri had a strong urge to just walk away and leave the man hanging, but decided against that before the thought finished forming and obliged him instead.

“Arigato,” Shuichi whispered, hugging his lover tightly. “Thank you.”

Eiri pulled away, horrified to find he was blushing.

Riku grinned broadly. It was rare to his color in his father’s cheeks. It was something only his mama could do to him.

Clearing his throat, Eiri turned his back on his husband and son and dug out his keys. He walked into the foyer and stepped aside, watching as Shuichi rolled to the door and peered inside. A smile flashed across his face, chasing away the last of the shadows that had been present since they pulled up. Taking a deep breath, he rolled inside, feeling suddenly as if a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He was home.

 

* * *

 

In the three months Shuichi was in the hospital, he lost considerable weight. Eiri would have to make sure he started eating, especially if they planned to have that family.

A family. Eiri's lips tilted into some resemblance of a smile. He glanced down at the man in his arms. Shuichi smiled back and rested his head on his husband's chest. He never believed growing up he would get married--and to a guy no less--and want a family. He never thought he would ever feel this happy or feel this complete.

Eiri kissed his husband on top of his head.

Shuichi cuddled against him when a yawn suddenly came over him.

“Don't even think about it,” Eiri warned his husband. “You aren't going to be able to sleep for a long time.”

Shuichi giggled. “Is that a promise?”

“You'd better believe it.”

Eiri kicked open the master bedroom door and marched inside. He unceremoniously dropped the smaller man onto the bed, watching as he bounced lightly. He felt himself growing hard as he thought about all the vigorous bouncing this bed was going to be seeing tonight.

Shuichi stared up at him, his eyes shinning and overflowing with desire. He giggled as he lay back on the bed. “Eiri,” he whispered. His voice was thick with lust.

The writer growled and ripped open his button down shirt. The buttons scattered, pinging each way as if a bomb had gone off among them. Eiri really did not care that this particular shirt had cost a couple thousand Yen. He had more important things to worry about. He tossed the torn shirt over his shoulder, not caring where it went, whipped off his belt, throwing it after his shirt, and then removed his pants along with his boxers in one foul swoop. Stepping out of his jeans, he kicked them aside. He stood besides the bed, watching his husband with unbridled hunger.

Shuichi licked his lips as he watched his naked husband standing before him. His eyes roamed down from Eiri’s pale, round face and gorgeous golden eyes to a well-toned chest and flat abs, a narrow waist, long legs and the thick meaty muscle standing erect between them. Shuichi's breath hitched at the glorious sight before him.

Sitting up, Shuichi yanked off his half shirt and tossed it to the floor. Lying back, he waited for his husband, knowing exactly what he would do. He was not disappointed when Eiri grabbed the waistband of his sweats and yanked them, along with his boxers, off, tossing them over his shoulder.

Eiri gazed down at his husband's nude body; he really was noticeably skinnier and would be even more so before this night was over. Feeling like a predator stalking his prey, Eiri crawled across the bed and up his husband's body, a deep growl emanating from his throat.

Shuichi's heart skipped a beat in expectation as he watched his lover slink his way up his body. It was as if the older man suddenly had muscles in places he should not have. It was very erotic.

Licking his lips, Shuichi gazed into his husband's ravenous golden eyes and reached up to trace the hard lines in his face. His ran his thumb along the fullness of his lips and down his chest, his fingers brushing over the sleeping buds and bringing them instantly to life.

They kissed softly, gently, almost tentatively. It was delicate, a light caress, in stark contrast to the fiery urge both had to completely consume one another.

Without pausing, Eiri's hand stroked up Shuichi's right leg lightly, brushing up his calf, over his knee and down the inside of his thigh to tease the edge of him.

Shuichi linked his fingers behind Eiri's head and pressed their mouths together hard and firm. He ran his tongue along Eiri's bottom lip, nipping it, seeking entrance. Eiri opened his mouth willingly and Shuichi slipped his tongue inside, exploring his mouth. Eiri's tongue teased Shuichi's back into his mouth. He nipped and pulled at the lush, red lips as his finger slipped inside. Shuichi cried into Eiri's mouth, arching his back off the bed, his fingernails digging into Eiri's shoulders.

Eiri quickly found that sweet spot and thrust over and over it, slipping in a second and then a third finger before Shuichi pried his mouth away from his husband's and cried out, enveloping them both in a white spray.

Shuichi lay back, panting and sweaty, his limbs feeling like rubber.

Eiri removed his fingers, pleased with himself. Walking backwards on his knees, he gazed down at the wide set shoulders, the flat stomach with its small indentation and perk nipples, the narrow waist and bony hips and his groin that lay limp now.

Eiri gazed at the sexy face and the violet eyes that were only now beginning to focus.

He leaned down over the heavy weight between the thin thighs and licked along the shaft as if he was eating an ice cream cone. Up and down, back and forth until Shuichi cried out. Eiri grabbed the base of him and squeezed. Shuichi caught his breath and shuddered, closing his eyes briefly. Eiri leaned back down and pulled him into his mouth. Eiri slid his husband's soft cock all the way into his mouth and down his throat. He took him all in, deep throating him. He slid him back out and then, after catching his breath, slid back down, swallowing him whole once again. He did this repeatedly, each time feeling Shuichi's cock harden even more. He felt Shuichi's body jerking underneath him.

“Oh, God, Eiri,” Shuichi cried out, his voice thick with lust.

Eiri raised his head and noticed that Shuichi had grabbed hold of the headboard, his knuckles white. He returned to his ministrations, thrusting his husband in his mouth and down his throat. Shuichi writhed, panting heavily, his whole body pulsating with each breath. His muscles spasmed and convulsed, arching off the bed with one cry after another.

“Eiri, please! Oh, Kami-sama! Please!”

Eiri slid his husband's rock hard cock out of his mouth. “What is it, Shu-chan?” he asked the man, his voice just as thick with desire.

“Fuck me! Now! Please!”

“No.”

Half dazed, his mind clouded with lust, Shuichi had a hard time wrapping his mind around what his husband had said. “What?”

“I won't fuck you, but I will make love to you.”

Eiri crawled up Shuichi's body and leaned over him in a sort-of push up motion. He captured his husband's lips and kissed him deeply and passionately, transferring all his pent up desire and hunger into it. He possessed his mouth, coveted it and crawled inside.

At the same time, he grabbed Shuichi's ankles and spread his legs. Taking hold of his bony hips, he pulled Shuichi down towards him. Grabbing himself, he laid his own hard cock against Shuichi's entrance and holding Shuichi's hips tightly, pushed inside him one tight inch at a time. Shuichi cried out against Eiri's mouth, moaning at the sensation of his husband pushing his way inside him. Eiri pressed himself inside his husband until he hit the end.

Eiri pushed up and watched Shuichi underneath him. Shuichi opened his hunger-filled eyes and stared up at his husband, resituating himself. He held Eiri's shoulders and squeezed them, telling him he was ready. Eiri took his husband at his word and pulled out slowly, until the tip of him was barely inside, then just as slowly thrust inside. He buried his face in the crook of Shuichi's neck and slowly and gently pressed inside of him and pulled back out. He had to fight the urge to speed up, to take his husband without mercy, to make him scream bloody murder.

He rocked against Shuichi, both hands on his hips, holding them together.

Underneath him, Shuichi moaned erotically, thrusting his hips up and down, meeting his husband. His eyes were closed, his mouth hung slack as he moaned and cried out in passion. His fingers clawed at Eiri's shoulders, arching his back off the bed.

Shuichi was so caught up in the hypnotic sensation of his husband pressing himself inside of him as if he was afraid he would break that the orgasm took him by surprise. His eyes rolled back and he arched off the bed, his hands fisting the sheets on either side of him. He cried out long and loud.

His husband clamped around him, making it harder for Eiri to thrust inside of him. He felt the pressure and pushed inside of his husband one last time before he exploded. He groaned, arching his back and shuddered, releasing his seed.

Panting, Eiri pulled out of his husband, hearing Shuichi hiss and groan, and collapsed onto the bed next to him. Shuichi curled up next to Eiri. Eiri hugged Shuichi to him and kissed the top of his head. “Are you okay?”

Shuichi nodded against Eiri's chest.

“Good.” Eiri draped his other arm around Shuichi's waist, holding him tightly.

“This is better than any trip to the Caribbean, or the Bahamas,” Shuichi whispered sleepily.

Eiri chuckled.

“Just being with you is heaven,” Shuichi whispered.

Within minutes, his breathing had settled and Eiri realized he was asleep. So much for keeping him up all night. “Welcome home, Shuichi,” Eiri whispered before he closed his eyes and fell in the first peaceful slumber in four months. Hey, the night was still long. He would give Shuichi a couple hours.

 

* * *

 

_It was the middle of the night when I found myself staring at the ceiling, suddenly wide-awake and was not sure why._

_Usually when something like this happens, it is because I have to go to the bathroom, but not tonight. Tonight is different, especially when an eerie feeling comes over me. It feels like I am not alone, as if someone is watching me. It was a feeling we all get when we are at home alone, but I know I am not alone because Eiri is asleep next to me. No, this--this was different._

_Without turning my head, I stare down the length of the bed and freeze. I lie petrified under the sheets and stare at the figure standing in the middle of the bedroom, directly between the bed and the door. An unspeakable fright and panic wash over me. Fear takes away my ability to speak, to move, to breathe. I stare at his chest, struggling for some reason with myself not to stare into his face. Why, I do not know._

_Without moving, without taking a step, the figure was suddenly standing at the very foot of my bed. I feel my heart leap out my chest. I still cannot move. I am completely paralyzed, whether by fear or something else I do not know._

_Then out of the corner of my eye, I spot someone appear out of nowhere. He glides across the room until he stands between the foot of the bed and this shadowy figure without it taking a step back. The newcomer I study and realize is my paternal great grandmother, in other words my father’s mother mother, who passed away a few years back._

_My grandmother Shindou stands with his hands outstretched and his back to me. I suddenly feel my fear and panic vanish. A sense of calm washes over me. I close my eyes and fall back to sleep, knowing that Nana would take care of everything._

 

* * *

 

**The Next Morning**

The next morning, Shuichi was sitting at the breakfast table staring into his juice.

He could not stop thinking about the weird dream he had last night. Had it even been a dream or had it actually happened? At the time it was happening, it’d felt so real, and not like those dreams that felt so real, you swear up and down that it was actually taking place, because on some level, you always know it was a dream. No, this dream had felt as real as reality, as real as he felt at the moment. But now, the morning after, the memory was surreal, like something out of a book or movie. Things like this just did not happen.

It scared him to think it might have been real. To think that some--entity could just appear inside his bedroom, a place where you were supposed to be safe. It scared him, but at the same time, knowing that whatever happened, he always had his family to protect him, that made it seem a little more bearable.

Shuichi blinked, snapping out of his thoughts when Eiri set a plate before him. Shuichi suddenly forgot all about that strange dream and picking up his chopsticks up, broke them apart, muttered, “ _Ita da ki masu_ ,” and shoveled the beautifully prepared Japanese breakfast into his mouth. He was so hungry! It felt like he had not eaten in months!

“Riku,” he heard Eiri holler from the doorway of the kitchen. “Your butt better out of bed and on its way down here or I’m going to kick it in!”

There was a barely audible reply that apparently Eiri heard clearly.

“I don’t care! You drag your ass down here now! Because if Shuichi eats your breakfast, then you’re shit out of luck!”

Shuichi threw his husband a glare, which went ignored. Was Eiri saying he was a pig? Grumbling at the insult, Shuichi went back to shoveling the deliciously prepared food into his mouth. He was soon lost back in thought.

Eiri took his seat opposite Shuichi and dug into his breakfast that was fast becoming cold. His chopsticks paused halfway to his mouth, Eiri watched his husband in amusement. With a shake of his head, he went back to eating. It was amazing he had been able to find anything to cook, seeing as for the past three months he has been practically living at the hospital, but apparently someone had done some shopping as the kitchen was stocked. Eiri had a feeling he had Tohma to thank for that. He took a sip of his coffee, realizing just how quiet it was. It was unusual for the apartment to be this silent when Shuichi was home. He was not sure if he liked it.

He checked the clock on the wall behind Shuichi. “Your son apparently stayed up late last night playing video games.” He stabbed his chopsticks at his once pink haired lover. “If he’s late to school, it’ll be your fault for buying him that goddamn game system.”

Not really listening, Shuichi shrugged listlessly.

Eiri studied his husband. “…You're awfully quite this morning,” he observed.

Shuichi looked up at stared at his husband across the table in confusion. “Hm?” he muttered around a mouth full of food.

“I said you're awfully quiet this morning. What's wrong?”

Swallowing, Shuichi reached for his cup and took a big gulp of juice. An image of that mysterious black figure flashed through his mind. “I was thinking,” he admitted, setting his cup down.

Eiri cocked an eyebrow as he shoveled some tuna into his mouth. He had a smart retort ready for that, but decided against it when he saw the thoughtful, distant expression on his husband’s face. “About what?”

“A--dream I had last night.”

“You're not sure?”

Used to his husband being able to read him like an open book, Shuichi only nodded. “It…I think I was awake, but…It just seems…”

“Tell me.”

And he did. Shuichi told him about waking up and finding that man, that--thing at the foot of his bed and of his dead great grandmother coming to protect him.

Afterward, silence stretched between them. Eiri truly had no idea what to say. Truthfully, just hearing Shuichi talk about that creepy dream made him want to bless the house. “Maybe it was Rinjin trying to make you his one last time,” he joked, picking up his coffee mug.

Shuichi paled and Eiri mentally cursed. Wrong thing to say.

“But from what you said, your grandmother came to your rescue, right?” He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. “Maybe now you'll stop having all those nightmares and we can finally have a decent nights sleep.”

“You think so?” Shuichi asked him.

“One can only hope,” he muttered.

“What?”

Eiri was saved from having to repeat himself by the ringing of the phone. He stood and crossed the kitchen. “Yeah…Yes...Oh, yes, Shiratori-san. What can I do for you?”

Shuichi raised an eyebrow. Shiratori-san? Who was that? And what did they want at seven-thirty in the morning?

“...Yes…Thank you.” Eiri hung up the phone and turned to see a patiently waiting Shuichi behind him. “That was Shiratori Yuri. She and her partner are the ones who moved into Rinjin's apartment. I called them while you were in the bath and left a message about you wanting to check out the apartment.”

“And? What did she say?”

“Both she and her partner leave for work at nine, so anytime before then.”

With a squeal, Shuichi jumped out his chair and tossed himself at his husband. He hugged the man tightly, planting wet sloppy kisses all over his face. Eiri held onto his husband as he tried to regain his balance.

“Ack! Enough, you damned brat!”

Eiri walked back to the wheelchair and plopped the smaller man into it. How Shuichi had managed to jump him was beyond him. He had figured that since his left leg was nothing more than a bump on a log, he would be safe from that shit. Guess not, he thought. He glared down into his husbands smiling face.

“C'mon, let's get this over with. Dr. Hikari is coming over for your session at ten and then you have to go for your physical therapy at two.”

A low groan escaped Shuichi. He slumped down in the chair as Eiri wheeled him through the house to the front door.

“Riku,” Eiri yelled up the staircase.

“I’m up! Jesus Christ!”

Shuichi snickered as his son appeared.

His dark blond hair was sleep tousled and his pajamas were twisted around his lanky form. Riku yawned loudly and scratched his head. “God! Can’t a guy get any sleep around here?”

“Not when it means you’re going to be late for school.”

“Whatever. Maybe if someone hadn‘t kept me up all night…” Riku grumbled under his breath as he made his way back into his cave-like bedroom.

Mortified, Shuichi slunk down in his wheelchair.

“We’re going next door,” Eiri called after him with a smirk. “If you aren’t dressed and ready to leave by the time we get back, your ass is grass. Got it?”

Still half asleep, Riku yawned and waved over his shoulder at his father.

Once Riku had vanished back into his bedroom, Eiri turned back towards Shuichi sitting with a bemused smile on his face in his wheelchair. “What?” he barked.

Shuichi shook his head. “Hey, Eiri?”

“What?”

“Why can't we just have a nice, quiet day at home?” he whined.

“You, quiet?” Eiri snorted. “Never gonna happen.”

“Hey! It could,” Shuichi argued, turning around in the seat to face his husband.

Eiri raised an eyebrow.

“It could,” Shuichi pressed.

“Sure, Shu. Whatever you say.”

“It could.”

“Uh, huh.” They stepped out of the apartment, seeing the hired goons standing at their posts. Do they ever sleep, Eiri wondered. “We're going next door,” he told them in English.

“Yes, Sir.”

Eiri walked down the hall, where Shuichi was already waiting in front of the door. He stood several feet away and watched the emotions race across his husband's face. “Shu,” he called softly.

Shuichi blinked and turned to look at him.

“Are you sure about this?” Eiri walked up to stand next to him. “You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

“I know, but I have to”

“Alright.” Eiri knocked on the door. He really did not want Shuichi to have to go through this, to relive that awful experience, but Shuichi was right. It was something he had to do.

There was a loud click and the sound of a chain sliding across the door before the door opened revealing a young woman in her early twenties and another slightly older woman behind her. Both women had long dark brown hair pulled back in neat ponytails and black eyes that was spewing with all the excitement they were trying desperately not to show at the idea of the Yuki Eiri and the Shindou Shuichi coming into their house. It was obvious they were both office drones from the conservative skirted suits they wore.

“Ah, Yuki-san. Shindou-san,” the younger one greeted with a slight bow. “I am Shiratori Yuri.” She swept her hand to her companion. “ And this is my partner, Oda Shuri. Please, come in.”

Eiri nodded his thanks and stepped inside. Immediately, he saw Blade take up post outside the door. Marcus had stayed behind. Both women took in the muscle bound foreigner and suddenly looked a little uneasy.

“He’s Shu's bodyguard. Blade'll stay outside if that's alright with you?” he explained.

The woman exchanged a quick nervous look. “T-that's fine,” Yuri squeaked.

Eiri glanced at his husband, waiting for him patiently.

Shuichi was slightly pale and his hands were trembling. Gulping audibly, the singer wheeled himself through the front door. He inclined his head at the two women. “Arigato, Shiratori-san, Oda-san. I appreciate it.”

“Think nothing of it,” Shuri said, waving his thanks aside. “If you need anything, feel free to ask.”

Shuri and Yuri backed into the living room, trying to stay out of the way. Eiri stood to Shuichi's left hand side, leaning against the wall with a carefully blank expression on his face as he watched the effort it took his husband to wheel himself through the foyer and into the living room.

Shuichi swept terror filled eyes up the long staircase.

He remembered clearly being pinned underneath Yasashii and looking up into those crazed black eyes, realizing for the first time just how far gone the man really was. Rinjin was a man who had lost all sense of reality. That was what scared Shuichi that day, not the kidnapping, not the murder of his guards and the promise of more to come. No, Rinjin had been the most frightening thing about that morning.

In that same spot, Rinjin tried to--He had--He tried to make Shuichi--his.

 

* * *

 

_“It's no use, Shu-han,” Yasashii whispered in his ear, ignoring the threat from below. “I told you, I'd make you mine no matter what.”_

_Panic raced through the singer. “Eiri! Eiri! Please,” he sobbed._

_“Shuichi!”_

_“Eiri!” Shuichi screamed. Even he could tell how hysterical he was becoming._

_Yasashii found himself getting hard by his love's attempts to escape. Licking his lips in anticipation, he bent over, his face hovering centimeters from Shuichi's. “Our first kiss, Shu,” he whispered._

_“Don't do this,” Shuichi begged with tears coursing down his cheeks. He tried turning his head from the inevitable, but long, skeletal-like claws clamped around his chin, holding him firmly in place._

_“I love you, Shu-han,” Yasashii whispered right before their lips touched._

 

* * *

 

Shuichi was grateful he had been able to fool Yasashii and get away. Otherwise…

He refused to think of the alternative.

As his gaze traveled to the railing. A shudder raced down his spine. He could still hear his husband's panicked, terror filled voice shouting out to him. He heard him screaming at him to stop, but it had been too late. He had been speeding and the cars antilock brake lines had been severed. He could have done nothing.

 

* * *

 

_Hearing the panic in his husband's voice, Shuichi tried to slow down, but was unable to. He felt the jarring impact as Yasashii crashed into the railing. The collision sent shockwaves through Shuichi's body. Seconds later, the horrifying sound of splintering wood echoed through the apartment and this time, Shuichi knew it was not the sound of the door being busted open. He stared at the man he was strapped around with wide, terrified eyes._

_Eiri reached the landing just as the railing gave. For a few precious seconds, the two men teetered at the edge. “Shuichi!” he cried, rushing forward. Time seemed to slow down at that moment. It seemed like Eiri had all the time in the world to get to his husband’s side, but knew in reality that he had no time at all. “Shuichi!” He reached out for him, as he rushed forward._

_Shuichi glanced over his shoulder at him, his eyes wide in fright, and a look of foreboding on his face. His eyes widened as gravity reached out with mighty claws and snatched them. With a blood-curling scream, his husband vanished from view as everything around him rushed passed him towards the ceiling. He closed his eyes tight against the sight quickening up to him at the speed of light._

_“Shuichi!” Eiri cried hysterically as he ran to the edge of the landing. “Shuichi!”_

 

* * *

 

Shuichi took deep, even breathes to calm a racing heart and dispel the sudden panic that clutched at him. Blinking away tears, he breathed through his mouth in an attempt to loosen a constricted throat. “I want to see the bedroom,” his voice came out breathless with an underlining layer of fright he could not quite hide.

Eiri glanced questioningly at the women. At Yuri's nod, Eiri walked over to his husband and scooped him up effortlessly. Shuichi draped his arms around his husband's neck for support as Eiri carried him up the stairs.

Standing before the closed master bedroom door, Eiri felt his lover's hold on him tighten.

His breathing fast, Shuichi swept large eyes across the bedroom. The women had it set up almost identical to his and Eiri's room. The curtains were tied back and the windows thrown open to allow the cool breeze to sweep through the apartment. It was a stark contrast to that night.

 

* * *

 

_Darkness. Silence. Utterly and complete. They surrounded him, encompassed and engulfed him. A sea of nothingness entrenched Shuichi. He was alone in a great, black void. The silence was just as thick, just as heavy, just as suffocating. There were no birds chirping, no locust buzzing, no creaking boards or settling foundations. He could hear none of the traffic that should be on the other side of the wall nor could he hear conversations floating up from the street as people went by. The only sound was the buzzing in his ears silence causes._

_The hair on the back of his neck and on his arms stood on end. He was no longer alone._

_His heart started racing, pounding painfully in his chest, making it difficult to catch his breath. The silence was drowned by the sudden wheezing that sounded louder than it really was in the unnatural silence. Shuichi placed his hand over his rapidly rising and falling chest as he tried to catch his breath._

_Shuichi licked his lips and swallowed audibly. His mouth had gone inexplicably dry._

_From out of the darkness came two ghostly hands._

 

* * *

 

Shuichi shook away the memory violently, which caused Eiri to almost drop him. Shuichi's heart was racing as he remembered all too clearly the sheer terror he felt at being trapped like a deer caught in the headlights. His breathing was shallow and sporadic, his eyes wide and glassy.

Eiri did not like how the memories were affecting Shuichi, but kept silent.

Glancing across the room at the far corner, now hidden by a dresser, Shuichi saw himself huddling in on himself, tears streaming down his face, fear and panic flashing across his face. Across the room in a chair was Rinjin, calm and cool, but his eyes had a look of a crazed man. He saw him stand up and cross the room towards his hunched form.

 

* * *

 

_He soft sobs became loud cries that echoed in the black nothingness. He howled when he found himself suddenly trapped in a corner, literally._

_Shuichi could hear the soft creaks as whatever was trapped in the darkness with him crept towards him ever so slowly. He knew he had to get away. There was no telling what this psycho would do to him, but he could not move. His fear trapped him there._

_“Eiri,” he hiccup-sobbed. “Please.”_

_“I'm sorry, Shu-han,” whispered a voice in his ear. “But your ‘lover' is not here. It's just you and me.”_

_With a terrified yelp, Shuichi scrambled blindly away from the voice._

_“Shu-han,” chuckled the voice. “I won't hurt you, you know that! I'm here to help you! I want to save you!”_

_Shuichi hissed in pain as he smacked into something hard. Agonizing pain laced his head. Tears prickled his eyes. Rubbing his throbbing head, he spit, “I don't need your help! I don't need you to save me! I don't want anything from you, Yasashii!” He reached out blindly and felt the slick, smooth surface of another wall. Cursing, tears of pain and fear racing down his face, Shuichi sat with his back pressed against the wall and tried to search the darkness for his captor._

_“That's because that damn perverted womanizer has poisoned your mind! Why can't you see that?” he pleaded._

_“Fuck you! That ‘perverted womanizer' is my husband! I love him and he loves me!”_

_“What about me, Shu-han?” Yasashii asked in a gentle voice. “Don't my feelings count for anything?”_

 

* * *

 

Shuichi was not sure when they started but as the memory faded, he found his face drenched with tears. He wiped at then futilely and sniffed, but they would not stop. He turned and buried his wet face in his husbands shoulder and wept bitter tears, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed. Eiri hugged him tightly, choking on his own sobs.

 

* * *

 

When his tears lessened, Shuichi lifted his head and wiped at his face. He glanced behind them at the hallway.

Yasashii made a terrible oversight that day. He left the bedroom door unlocked. That gave Shuichi the opportunity to flee, but instead of leaving the apartment, as he should have, he stood at the top of those stairs and stared down horrified at the sight he saw. Both of his guards, Koji and Jacob, lying face down and unmoving. Or maybe Yasashii left the door open knowing Shuichi would escape and see his wonderful handy work, something he did for “their future”.

“Can you…Can you go over to the railing?” Shuichi asked his husband, his voice thickened by all the crying. Without a word, Eiri walked to the newly repaired railing and Shuichi glanced down into the living room below.

Shuichi was well aware that Eiri had not said a word since they came here and for that; he was eternity grateful to him.

 

* * *

 

_Shuichi raced out of the room and down the hall towards the staircase. His gaze swept over the railing that separated the occupants from a two-story plummet and caught sight of the two prone figures lying sprawled out in the middle of the living room. Shuichi gasped and slowed to a halt at the head of the staircase. His chest tightened and his eyes filled with tears. He hoped they were all right. If Yasashii had indeed killed them, he would never be able to forgive himself._

 

* * *

 

Tears trailed down Shuichi's cheeks as he sobbed quietly. The pain of losing his bodyguards was still there. There was still a part of him that felt responsible for their deaths. That would never change no matter how many sessions he had with Dr. Hikari.

A phantom crash echoed through the apartment, jerking Shuichi's gaze down towards the front door. He saw the door implode as Eiri burst through it, a knight in shinning armor trying to save his princess from the dragon. Shuichi snickered through his tears at the thought. Sighing, he leaned against his husband's shoulder, sniffing as his sobs lessened.

Eiri gazed over the railing to the front door. He could remember the first thing he saw when he busted down the door.

 

* * *

 

_“E-Eiri,” came the cry from above him._

_The writer glanced up, saw his baka alive and well at the head of the staircase. At his feet was their neighbor, clutching his face and crying. “Shu, what did you do to him?”_

_Shuichi smiled proudly. “Decked him.”_

 

* * *

 

Eiri kissed the side of his husband's head.

Shuichi turned his head and gazed at his husband through the thin veil of tears he was unable to chase away. He glanced deeply into those golden hazel eyes and smiled. Shuichi reached out and lightly traced the side of Eiri's face. Eiri smiled back, leaning into that touch.

“I love you.”

Eiri chuckled. “I know,” he whispered back. Eiri's head descended until his lips brushed lightly over Shuichi's. He touched their foreheads together, gazing into those big violet eyes.

Snuggling against his husband, Shuichi hugged the man tightly. “Let's go.”

“Alright.” Eiri carried his husband towards the steps, but stopped and glanced over his shoulder at the railing. Today he was taking his husband home, but three months ago, he stood at the bottom of these stairs and watched as a deranged madman, covered in his own blood, went after Shuichi…

 

* * *

 

_“What?” Eiri did not like that one little bit. He started towards the staircase. “Shuichi, what-?” He cut himself off when he noticed the bastard who took his Shuichi stagger to his feet. With his wide eyes, he watched as this man, who had blood covering the lower half of his face and an insane gleam in his eyes, glared at the back of Shuichi's head._

_Shuichi heart beat in reaction to the sudden panicked look in his husband in confusion. “Eiri?” he called out cautiously. “What's-?”_

_“Duck,” Eiri shouted in panic._

_Without bothering to question the older man, Shuichi did what he was told and dropped. His eyes widened as he felt the swoosh of air passing right above his head. He staggered backwards and stood back up as Yasashii lurched past him, trying to regain his balance. The man growled, spun around and charged Shuichi. The singer stood his ground. Bending over, he rammed his head into Yasashii's gut and grabbed hold of his belt. He heard the man grunt as his breath was forced out of him. With a cry, Shuichi pushed them down the hall, unaware of where they were heading._

 

* * *

 

Shuichi glanced at his husband and saw him staring up the stairs. “Eiri?”

Eiri turned a drawn face towards his singer. His pale eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“Eiri!” Shuichi was always shocked to see this side of his husband. Eiri almost never cried. Shuichi could count on one hand how many times he has seen Eiri cry and still have enough fingers left over to make a fist. “W-what's wrong? Why…Why're you-?”

“I almost lost you that day,” he choked.

With tears in his own eyes, Shuichi hugged Eiri, feeling the blond writer squeeze him in return. “But you didn't,” he whispered.

Eiri took a deep breath and nodded. He had not, but he could have. He hugged his husband tightly, closing his eyes against the tears that threatened to spill. “I love you, Shuichi.”

“I know,” Shuichi whispered back.

Down in the living room, Shuri engulfed her lover from behind, holding her tightly as they watched the men at the top of the stairs. Yuri leaned into the older woman, a soft smile on her face. She turned her head and glanced tenderly at her lover. Shuri smiled back, kissing her softly, then turned back to watch their neighbors.

 

* * *

 

Shuichi and Eiri walked out of the apartment and turned back to the women. “Thank you again.”

“You're very welcome,” Yuri nodded.

“I hope everything works out for you,” Shuri told the men.

“Thank you,” Eiri said. “Come on, Shu.”

“Goodbye,” Shuichi nodded as he and Eiri headed back to their apartment.

Marcus and Blade took up their positions outside the door as the couple entered the apartment.

“Now we just have to make it through a session with Dr. Hikari and then your physical therapy,” Eiri told his husband.

Shuichi groaned as he wheeled into the living room. “Why'd you have to remind me?” he whined as the apartment door closed behind him.

 

**…To Be Continued…**

 

 


	7. The Possibility of an Addition

**Chapter 7: The Possibility of An Addition**

**Two months later - April**

Silently, Eiri crept up the carpeted steps with a thin, long white box tucked neatly under his left arm.

At the top of the staircase, he quietly walked to the master bedroom. Shifting the box to his right arm, he noiselessly opened the door and stepped into the twilight-strewn room, closing the door behind him. He tiptoed across the room, knowing his way even in the dark, to the large bed. Setting the box against the nightstand, he sat on the edge of the bed next to the curled up lump under the blankets.

The man started chuckling when he pulled down the sheets to reveal a head of short dark purple hair that appeared as if he had stuck a finger in a light socket.

“Shu. Shuichi.” He placed a chaste kiss on the singer's bare shoulder. “Shu-chan wake up.”

The singer groaned and flipped onto his back. With a yawn, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched. Violet eyes fluttered open with a sigh, trying to focus on the man smiling down at him.

Shuichi smiled sleepily. “Hmm. ‘Morning, Eiri. What time is it?”

“After ten.”

“Hmm.” Shuichi yawned again.

Eiri studied his husband's drawn face. “Tired?”

“Hm, yeah.” Pushing himself up, Shuichi leaned against the headboard and yawned yet again, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he opened them, he found himself staring at a long, white shinny box with a red ribbon wrapped around it and a matching bow. He blinked in surprise. “What's this?”

“A present moron.”

Shuichi took the box with a smile, his eyes sparkling, not quite chasing away the shadows of weariness. “For me?”

Eiri rolled his eyes. “No, it's for my other husband. Idiot, of course it's for you.”

“Really?” Shuichi squealed. “What is it?” he asked enthusiastically.

“Open it and find out,” he chuckled.

Grinning like madman, Shuichi ripped off the bow and slid the ribbon off. Both ended up in a pile at his feet. Shuichi ripped the flimsy top nearly in two in his quest to open his present. He could not understand why the lid would not come off.

Eiri sighed in disbelief and snatched the box from him, prying off the tape from the sides of the box as if his husband was eight instead of twenty-eight.

Feeling foolish and blushing brightly, Shuichi took back the box and lifted the lid. His humiliation was soon forgotten as he searched among tons of pink tissue paper and discovered a strange metal object at the bottom. Confused, Shuichi lifted it out and set the box aside. He gasped when he realized what it was.

“Eiri,” he breathed in awe.

It was a cane, but not like the plain generic grey one he was using that you could find in just about any story in the country. He got a very strong feeling of déjà vu, knowing he had seen this same cane somewhere before. The cane was pink lacquered with a round silver metallic bulb on top etched with a variety of shapes and images. The bottom of the cane had a similar silver cone that had been deprived of its sharp tip in exchange for a black rubber pad.

“Oh, Eiri. It's beautiful!” Shuichi leaned over and kissed his husband. “I love it.”

Distantly they heard the apartment echo with the sudden ringing of the phone in the kitchen right below them. Moments later, the extension in their room shrilled to life.

“Good,” Eiri said over his shoulder as he walked around the bed to the phone. “If you love it so much, why don't you use it to go hop in the shower. We have a lunch date with your parents remember?”

“Really? Was that today?”

“Yes it is.”

“Are you sure?”

Eiri rolled his eyes as he picked up the phone. “Yes, now go take a shower.” He held up the phone to his ear and said casually, “Hello?” He rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “If you call and ask me that one more time, I swear you'll never get it Mizuki.”

Shuichi threw aside the covers and dragged himself out of bed as Eiri discussed why his latest manuscript was late. He had no idea why Mizuki even bothered anymore. She should know by now that Eiri rarely, if ever, turned in anything on time and that bothering him everyday about it would only succeed in making it that much more late.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eiri frowned as he watched his husband haul himself out of the room, presumably to go to the bathroom. Shuichi looked so tired all of the time lately. He wondered what was wrong with him. Was he getting sick?

After he assured his editor she would have his next “masterpiece” by this time tomorrow, Eiri followed the sounds of the shower. Without making a sound, the writer stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Stripping, he silently stepped in behind his husband.

Shuichi was standing under the spray, his hands on the wall, his head bowed and his eyes closed. The singer did not make any indication he heard Eiri. When Shuichi felt large hands creep around his waist, the singer's eyes snapped open with a startled yelp. He heard Eiri's deep chuckling as kisses were planted on his shoulder. “Dammit, Eiri,” he snapped. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart. “You scared the shit--Ah!” He gasped sharply, cutting himself off, then groaned deeply as a large hand grabbed the base of him, squeezing. A shudder raced through him. Shuichi tipped his head back and arched into the tantalizing touch. “Mmm,” he moaned. “Ahh! Ohhh, Eiri!”

Eiri nibbled at Shuichi's neck, one hand creeping up his husband's chest to play with the singer's nipples. Shuichi wrapped one hand around his husband's neck while the other cupped the hand that was stroking his stiff cock. He dropped his head down, groans and gasps emanating from his open mouth as his husband jerked him off quickly and expertly. A wild mix of warmth and pleasure swirled through him.

“Ah!” he cried. “Eiri! Eiri! I’m-! I’m-!” With a final cry, Shuichi's head snapped back and he climaxed.

Panting, Shuichi sagged in his husband's arms. His legs felt like they were made of rubber. Closing his unfocused eyes, Shuichi licked his lips and languished in the afterglow.

Smirking, Eiri carefully leaned the not so stable Shuichi up against the cold tile wall and grabbing his narrow hips with one hand, used the other to place the head of his cock at his husband’s entrance and with a flex of his hips, easily slid inside. He exhaled the breath he had been holding and just enjoyed the feeling of having his husband surround him.

“Eiri,” Shuichi moaned in a voice that did not sound like his own.

“It’s a good thing the new school year started the other day,” Eiri whispered into Shuichi’s ear as he slid agonizingly slow out of his husband.

Shuichi huffed, his hands clawing at the slick walls. “Like that would have stopped you,” he retorted in a breathless pant.

“True.” It never had in the past. “Tell me how you want it,” the writer whispered huskily in Shuichi's ear.

Shuichi shivered. “Hard,” he whispered. “Fast. Fuck me into the wall.”

“Your wish is my command.”

The bathroom was filled with the harsh thwap's of flesh on flesh as Eiri slammed into Shuichi with everything he had, ripping a scream from the singer. He tore out and thrust back in, repeatedly. Eiri grunted, his balls whacking against his husbands buttocks. His fingers dug into narrow hips, leaving imprints.

Shuichi felt the pressure building as the large intruder rammed inside of him from between his legs with such force he was sure something was going to tear before either one of them climaxed, but he did not care. He loved the feeling of his husband.

Suddenly the pressure became too much and he exploded. He cried out loudly and spasmed against the tiled wall. His seed coated the wall for a second time. Eiri echoed him, thrusting his hips into Shuichi's butt one last time and releasing his seed.

Panting, Eiri pulled out and spun an equally winded Shuichi around. Picking him up, Eiri captured Shuichi’s lips and walked them into the wall. Shuichi wrapped his legs around his husband's waist as their tongues wrestled. Eiri squeezed Shuichi's buttocks and massaged them as he tried to swallow the singer. Groaning, Shuichi tore his mouth away and ground his rapidly recovering erection into the writers, crying out as a jolt of pleasure rippled through him. Eiri held Shuichi tightly against him, panting, resting his forehead against Shuichi's shoulder.

“Eiri,” Shuichi breathed. Before Eiri could answer, they heard the distant trill of the phone.

Groaning, Shuichi dropped his legs, losing steam.

Cursing, Eiri set Shuichi down. Grabbing his towel from the niche, he wrapped it around his torso and still muttering oaths under his breath, stormed out of the bathroom.

Shuichi scratched his head, cursing lightly under his breath with a light chuckle that sounded anything but amused, but admired the view of his husband's backside nonetheless.

Suddenly, his laughter choked to a halt. His eyes wide, he flung a hand over his mouth and stumbled out of the tub. Scampering to the toilet, he flung open the lid and collapsed to his knees just in time.

Eiri heard the sound of wrenching all the way down the hall. “I have to go, Mother,” he said to Shuichi's mother. “It sounds like Shuichi's sick.” He flung the phone away from his ear and flinched as a cry screamed from the earpiece. “I'm sure he's fine. It's probably just something he ate. I think there's a bug going around,” he tried to calm the suddenly hysterical woman down. “…Yes, I'll make sure he gets plenty of rest…Yes, Mother…I'll see how he's feeling and call you back about lunch…Alright…Goodbye.” Sighing in relief, Eiri replaced the receiver and thanked God that she was just an in-law. If Mrs. Shindou had been his mother, he would have killed himself years ago.

He strode into the bathroom and saw his husband collapsed over the toilet.

“Again?”

Shuichi groaned.

Eiri took that as a yes. Flushing the toilet, he grabbed the damp rag from the side of the sink and gave it to the pale man. While Shuichi wiped himself off, Eiri shut off the shower. Silence erupted around them. He took the rag and tossed it into the laundry basket, then grabbed Shuichi's towel. Helping him to his feet, he wrapped the singer in the oversized beach towel. “Brush your teeth,” he ordered. “I'm going to call the doctor.”

Knowing it was pointless to argue, Shuichi only nodded.

In their bedroom, Eiri placed a call to Shuichi's doctor, Dr. Ohtani. The man answered immediately. When Eiri told him what was going on, the doctor said nothing.

“And you said this has been going on for a while now?” the man asked.

“Yes, more or less.”

“Hm.” He was silent for so long that Eiri was not sure if the man was still there. Then he said, “I'm going to refer you to a Dr. Amano.”

Eiri wrote the name down on the pad that was always kept next to the phone. “Dr. Amano?”

“Yes, Dr. Amano Sanae. She's an OB here at the hospital. She also has her own medical practice not too far from where you live. I'll give her a call and see if she can squeeze Shindou-san in. She's a very busy woman and very hard to get in to see, but I trust her implacably. I'll call you right back.”

Trusting Dr. Ohtani knew what he was doing, Eiri thanked the man and hung up just as Shuichi limped slowly into the bedroom. He watched as the singer, his new cane in hand, trudged over to the bed and collapsed into it. He set the cane against the nightstand and lay down, flinging the covers over his head. Eiri sighed. Pushing away from the dresser, Eiri walked across the room and lay next to his husband, spooning him from behind. “How're you feeling, Shu-chan?”

Shuichi grunted from under the blankets.

“Dr. Ohtani wants you to go see some OB.”

“A what?” came the muffled question under the layers of blankets.

“An OB. Obstetrician.”

Purple eyes poked out of the blankets and stared at him blankly. “ _Nani_?”

Eiri rolled his eyes. “Obstetricians deal with all that childbirth….” His eyes widened in understanding. He shot a stunned gaze at his equally shocked husband. The stunned silence was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. The men exchanged a look. Eiri got up to answer the phone. “Hello.”

“Uesugi-san? I called Dr. Amano and she is able to see Shindou-san. She can squeeze you in at one.”

“Today?” Eiri glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was just about eleven now. They would not have enough time to go to the café, have lunch with Shuichi’s parents, and then get to the hospital in time for the appointment.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, no. It's fine.”

“Good. I told her about Shindou's--condition,” he said for lack of a better term, “and as I said, I trust her implacably so don't worry. I'll fax over Shindou-san's file now.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“No problem. Have a nice day.”

Eiri hung up the phone. He then called Shuichi's parents and apologized to them for they would not be able to have lunch with them that day but rescheduled for this same time next week. By the time he was able to pry himself away from the phone, he found his husband laying as naked a jaybird on top of the bed, rubbing his belly. There was a soft, gentle smile on his face.

Smirking, Eiri crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. Shuichi turned and smiled at his through tear blurred vision when he felt the mattress dip. Eiri reached out and linked his hands with the singer's over his slightly larger belly.

“If this Dr. Amano Dr. Ohtani's sending me to is a-a…”

“Obste-Baby doctor,” Eiri decided, rubbing his hand gently over Shuichi's stomach, a soft, dreamy expression on his face.

“Yeah.” Shuichi nodded. “If she's a baby doctor, then does that mean that I'm…?” He stared up at his husband with large pleading eyes.

Eiri shrugged, tearing his eyes away from Shuichi's. He wanted it to be true more than anything, but he did not want to get his hopes up. “It's possible,” he admitted. “Why else would he suggest you go see one?”

Shuichi turned back and stared at his belly, smiling. “Hm. True.” He giggled, his smile growing. “A baby.”

 

* * *

 

Eiri flushed the toilet and after washing his hands, walked back to the bedroom just in time to watch Shuichi growl in frustration before flopping backwards onto the bed. “What's the problem now?”

Tears filled the singer's violet eyes, his lip trembled and then he burst out, “They won't fit!”

Exasperated, Eiri heaved a sigh and crossed the master bedroom to the walk-in closet.

Unfortunately, they’ve been going through this almost every single day for the past four weeks. Apparently, Shuichi has not been able to fit into any of his pants other than the ones with an elastic waist. In all honesty, Eiri hadn’t given the problem much thought or consideration. Shuichi has always been a bit of waif, but his time at the hospital ended with the singer looking a bit skeletal. With a little meat on those bones, Eiri discovered that he found his husband even sexier then ever. Of course, Shuichi was none too pleased with the gained weight. Eiri has tried to tell Shuichi that he was not fat and even if he was, Eiri would still love him. Shuichi was not buying it.

But if Shuichi’s PCP, Dr. Ohtani, wanted to send Shuichi to an OB, then was it possible…?

As Eiri did not want to get his hopes up, he has been trying not to dwell to much on the possibility that they could be pregnant; it was still difficult to wrap his mind around Shuichi being a Bearer.

Rooting among the various leather, vinyl and lace outfits--he used the term “outfits” loosely--Eiri found a pair of black stretch pants. They were supposed to be women’s, but Shuichi liked them. He tossed his husband the pants, which ended up landing on Shuichi’s head. “Here put these on until we can go shopping.”

Shuichi pulled the pants off his head and sat up with a pout. “But I don't want to wear these! I want-!”

“Shu,” Eiri interrupted a little forcibly. “If you don’t get dressed, we're going to be late for your doctor's appointment.”

When Shuichi continued to sulk, Eiri prayed for patience as he crossed to the bed and ripped the jeans that were now a couple sizes too small down and off Shuichi, who yelped in surprise. Ignoring him, Eiri grabbed the black pants out of his husband's stunned hands and slid them up Shuichi's feet. “Pull them up,” he ordered lightly, “then put your shirt on.”

Still sulking, Shuichi dressed while Eiri grabbed his comb off the dresser and started combing out his husband‘s short-cropped dark purple hair before it tangled.

Shuichi's hair was angled; long in front and short in back. The long tresses that framed his face and his bangs had been dyed a dark purple while the rest had been left black. Eiri had to admit, the cut was a bit odd. It was going to take a little getting used to.

“Ya know, Shu,” he told the man, “the fact that you can't fit into your pants may be a good thing.”

Sniffling, Shuichi finished buttoning the white silk button down shirt. “How?”

“Well, I did some research and you are showing all the symptoms of a pregnancy.”

Shuichi's face brightened considerably. So, he was pregnant! He squealed in delight, his hands flying to his stomach.

“When I dug a little more, I found out that in certain pregnancy cases, six weeks after conception you usually aren't able to fit in your pants anymore.” Eiri looked pointedly into those violet eyes staring at him incredibly. “Four weeks ago, you found out that your pants were starting to feel a little tight, right?”

Shuichi's mouth gaped open and closed, making him look like a fish. He did not know what to say. Was it possible that he could be pregnant again? That would be a dream come true. After he miscarried their first child, he struggled with the idea of trying again but when he saw Hiro's little boy, he knew. He wanted a family. He wanted what he lost.

Shuichi blinked. “Wait. A ‘certain pregnancy'? What does that mean?”

“Twins.”

“T-twins?” That was too much for the singer. His eyes rolled up and everything went black.

Eiri gasped in surprise, rushed forward, and caught his husband before he hit the floor. Wasn't his job to faint at times like these? He sighed, shaking his head.

 

* * *

 

**En Route**

Four hours later, Shuichi and Eiri were sitting in the back of Shuichi's jeep Cherokee heading home from the doctors. Marcus was sitting in the front seat besides the new driver Tohma had hired--Shuichi was not sure what happened to the last one--while Blade had been given the day off.

Both Eiri and Shuichi felt it was a little excessive to have both bodyguards with them at the same time, so it had been decided that Marcus would work the dayshift and Blade the nightshift. On certain occasions, such as certain events and functions, both men would be called in.

“How long will it take to get the results back you think?” Shuichi asked around a yawn.

“A few days.”

Shuichi did not need the results of a blood test to tell him what he already knew: he was pregnant. The severe morning sickness, increased fatigue, the weight gain, it all made sense now that he thought about it.

With a smile on his face, he rested against Eiri.

In no time at all, they were pulling into the underground parking garage of the condominium complex where they lived.

The driver pulled in front of the elevators. Before the car had even come to a complete stop, Marcus had jumped out of the passenger seat. He held the door open the car door for Shuichi and Eiri, all the while keeping his keen eyes open.

“Do you really think I could be pregnant, Eiri?” Shuichi asked as the elevator ascended to their floor.

“It's possible.”

“I hope I am,” Shuichi commented wistfully. He hooked an arm through Eiri’s and leaned his head against Eiri shoulder. “I would love to have a baby with you.”

“Me too,” Eiri returned. “We'll just have to wait and see. If it turns out you're not than we'll just have to keep trying, huh?”

A huge smile flashed across Shuichi's face. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

After what he has been through these last six or so months, Shuichi was glad to finally be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Having Eiri's baby? Yes, dreams were made of that stuff. “I wonder what Riku’ll think about having a little brother or sister,” he wondered aloud.

Eiri snorted. “Let’s just hope it’s just a brother or sister.”

 

* * *

 

**Uesugi-Shindou Residence**

Eiri walked out of his office reading his manuscript one last time before he sent it in to Mizuki as he headed to the kitchen. Without pausing in his reading, the writer set his mug down on the countertop and filled it to the brim with the steaming dark liquid. He took a sip of the surprisingly still hot coffee and started back towards his office when he heard the front door open.

“Sir,” called Marcus as the giant of a man as he stepped into the living room. “Mr. Seguchi is here to see Mr. Shindou,” he informed the writer in his native tongue.

“Let him in.”

The American nodded and vanished as Eiri walked into the living room and tossed the manuscript of his latest story on the coffee table. Flopping down onto the couch, he removed his glasses and placed them on top of the thick volume of paper.

“Afternoon, Eiri,” the president smiled as he strolled into the apartment.

“What do you want, Seguchi?”

“I came to speak with Shindou-san. Is he here?”

“He's sleeping.”

Tohma raised an eyebrow. When Eiri did not elaborate or say anything further, he said, “I have a proposition for him. For Bad Luck actually.”

Eiri raised an eyebrow. “I thought you'd agreed to give them some time off.”

“I did, yes.”

“O-Kay. Care to elaborate?”

Tohma shook his head with a smile on his face. “I would rather discuss it with Shindou-san present. That way, I do not have to repeat myself.”

Eiri snorted. “Can't have that, can we?” He stood and walking up the staircase, vanished in the master bedroom.

Tohma settled himself down on the couch, folding his hands neatly in his lap. He heard the faint sound of his brother-in-law’s deep voice speaking softly punctuated with his deep bass chuckle and Shuichi's high-pitched giggle, but could not make out what they were saying. Several minutes passed before Eiri reappeared with his husband in tow.

Shuichi, in a pair of pink bunny pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt limped out of their bedroom and slowly made his way down the stairs, his cane held securely in one hand and his husbands in the other.

Tohma was shocked to see how worn out the singer appeared.

“Good afternoon, Shindou-san,” Tohma greeted. “I apologize for waking you up.”

Shuichi yawned, scratching his head as he sat down on the couch. “It's okay. Eiri said it was time for me to get up and have breakfast anyway.”

“That would be lunch,” Eiri corrected.

“Huh?” Shuichi looked at him blankly.

“You slept through breakfast. It is now past noon. Lunch time.”

“Oh.” Shuichi blushed.

Tohma blinked in surprise. “You are just getting up? I assumed you were just taking a nap.”

Shuichi shook his head, blushing. He peeked at his husband and saw him give a small sharp shake of his head.

Tohma saw the exchange and grew curious.

“You have something to talk to me about?” Shuichi asked his boss.

“Yes, I do,” Tohma said snapping out of his thoughts. He perched on the edge of the seat and faced the singer. “I know we discussed you taking an extended leave of absence from singing.”

Shuichi nodded. They had discussed it soon after he woke from his coma. Tohma told him he could take as much time as he needed in order to recover. Shuichi had yet to talk to Tohma and the rest of Bad Luck about his need to distance himself from the business, not because of this incident that almost left him paralyzed for the rest of his life, but for him, for Eiri and for the family they wanted to grow. Bad Luck has been going strong in one form or another for almost fifteen years and it was time to step back and just be Shindou Shuichi, husband, lover, son, best friend and not Shindou Shuichi, lead singer of the hottest band in the world. The hard part was telling Hiro, Suguru, Michael, Kai and Kei.

“I am not asking you to return to work,” Tohma was saying. “But we have been getting hundreds of inquiries each day asking about how you're doing and when is Bad Luck going to perform again and such. I would like you to release a statement to the press, maybe do one or two interviews just to inform your fans that you are indeed alive and well.”

Shuichi nodded. That was the least he could do. In the six months since the accident, he has gotten thousands of cards from fans wishing him well. They had been very worried about him and the least he could do was thank them for all their concern, prayers, and well wishes. “Alright. I can do that.”

“Wonderful!” Tohma clapped his hands together. “There is another thing I would like to discuss with you this afternoon, but before you say anything, here me out.”

Shuichi nodded despite the bad feeling he was getting.

“I received a call from the president of the Music Channel and he wanted Nittle Grasper as their surprise guest on the Music Channel Video Music Awards this year.”

“Really? That's great!”

“I turned them down-”

“What?” Shuichi cried in shock. Why would Tohma Seguchi turn something like that down?

Even Eiri was shocked his brother-in-law had done something like that. He might not be as outgoing and carefree as his husband, but he did know that the MCVMA's was the biggest award show in Japan. It was the only award show where the winners were chosen based solely by their fans. It was an award show geared towards the young people, who buy the majority of the music.

“-and offered the position to you.”

Shuichi blinked. “T-to me? I don't understand.”

“What I'm saying, Shindou-san is this; Bad Luck has the guest appearance on the hottest award show in Japan. This will be the first time you have performed in over a year, the first time you have been seen in public since the accident. Nobody knows who the special guests are except for a very select few. With everything that has happened, nobody would ever guess the guests would be you. If we were to hold back those press statements and interviews until after the show, it would be even more of a surprise when that curtain rises.” Tohma searched the singer's face and saw the eagerness, the anticipation, the fire and desire burning away in them, but he also saw something else: fear. “You do not have to do this. I am not forcing you and I will not hold it against you. If you are not ready, that is fine.”

To be the special guests on the Music Channel Video Music Award show would be the greatest thing in the world--other than being pregnant that was. He has been hearing some rumors that he was permanently paralyzed, that the concussion left him brain dead, or unable to sing, or mute and blind. There were dozens of such rumors floating around. A lot of people and so-called experts have been saying that a fall like the one he took should have left him blah, blah. His x-rays show blah. Everyone had been saying Shindou Shuichi was as good as dead and that Bad Luck was finished. They had completely written them off. Well, he could not let these falsehoods continue. This performance could be his way of thanking all the fans for their support and to let everyone know while he was far from back to normal, he was far from finished.

“The only thing is…the show is only two weeks away,” Tohma added.

Eiri head snapped around. He glared at his brother-in-law. “Two weeks?” It was bad enough Tohma wanted his husband to perform so soon after the accident, but now the guys had only two weeks to come up with and perfect a stage show. He did not like any of this. He could not allow Shuichi to do this. It was too soon. “Seguchi-”

“I know. I know.” Tohma patted the air with his gloved hand. “You would have a lot to do in such a short amount of time, Shindou-san. That's why I was not-”

“We'll do it.”

“What?!” Eiri rounded on his husband. “Shindou Shuichi -!”

Shuichi threw his husband a reassuring smile. He saw the concern on Eiri’s face and knew what the man was thinking. “This could be Bad Luck's--farewell performance.”

Tohma's smile falter. “Farewell performance? Shindou-san, surely your brief hiatus-”

“No, Seguchi-san.” Shuichi shook his head with a sad smile. It was now or never. He glanced at his husband. They linked hands, twining their fingers together. He took a deep breath and plunged forward. “I'm--leaving the music business at least for now,” he quickly added. His hand fluttered to his stomach. “You see, it's not official, but--I think we're, uhm, we're going to have a baby.”

The president of the biggest record label in the country was stunned into silence. His eyes bugged out of his head and his jaw dropped to the floor. “What!?”

 

* * *

 

**The Next Day**

“It's something that I've been wrestling with ever since our last tour ended.” Shuichi shook his head and heaved a heavy sigh. “You all know I was firmly set against this album. It wasn’t exactly a secret. That didn't change just because I agreed to do it.”

Suguru spoke up. “But it's gone Platinum sev-”

Shuichi shook his statement aside. “Forever Yours could go diamond tomorrow and it would not change the fact that I hated doing it.”

“Why?” Hiro asked his best friend. He slid to the edge of the couch and stared, feeling confused, at his best friend who was gazing out over the balcony.

“You guys don't know this, but I was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown,” Shuichi confessed. His voice was barely above a whisper.

Gasps, whispers and cries of shock and disbelief followed this statement.

Shuichi ignored it all and plunged on ahead before he lost his nerve. “It was easier then I thought it would be to hide my breakdown from you guys. I was surprised none of you noticed.” Actually, as he really thought about it, it wasn’t that surprising. They all had their own lives now, wives, girlfriends, children…They could not keep on looking after him. “That day,” he continued, “I was heading into the studio to tell you that I had had enough, that I needed a break. In the event that you denied me my request, I-I was ready to quit.”

“What?” they all shouted.

“You're kidding!”

“No way.”

“I don't believe it.”

“Shu-”

“Though, that would have broken my heart to do so,” Shuichi admitted truthfully.

The living room was filled the heavy silence. Each was lost in his own world of confusion and bewilderment.

“When K was our manager, he never gave us a moment's peace. It was always GO! GO! GO!” Shuichi emphasized the last by pounding his fist in his hands. Relaxing his hand at his side, he heaved a sigh. “I understand why he did it. He wanted us to get our name out there. He wanted us to be the biggest in the music business. Hell, I wanted that too! But as time went by, it just got worse. The pressure to be bigger than the last time, to out do what we achieved before. There was always a show we had to do. We were always doing a week stint here two weeks there. It just did not end! He never gave us a break. Ever! To him, it was to hell with your families and significant others. Forget the holidays and having any semblance of a normal life. We were to live, breath, eat and dream Bad Luck. He was the world's biggest workaholic and he expected us to be as well. When he left, I thought, ‘Finally! Some peace!' But nothing changed. It was still GO! GO! GO! For the past ten years it's been the same damn thing.”

Shuichi felt his anger beginning to take over him, pushing aside the melancholy, though he wasn’t sure whom he was mad at.

“Rush through an album, promote the hell out of it, tour until my voice's shot and I'm mentally and physically exhausted and then tour some more. Come home, rest for a week--longer if we're lucky--and then start all over again.” Shuichi turned around, tears running down his face. His anger suddenly evaporated, leaving only the despair and the sadness. “I can't do that anymore! I can't!”

This was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. Tohma had taken it well, after getting over the shock. He also understood. He pointed out that even Nittle Grasper had taken several vacations through their long careers. It was something everyone had to do occasionally. You had to slow down. You had to take a break away from it all otherwise, you ended up burning out.

“Singing is what you do. It is not who you are,” Tohma said to him.

“I love you guys. You're my best friends, my family, but I can't do this anymore.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his mouth. “I've been struggling with this decision even before I was forced into doing this last album. I knew what I had to do, but I-I didn't want to let you down! I was fading rapidly, but still…I had to at least try to make it to the end. We were almost finished, but…” Shuichi shook his head. But then I got pregnant, he added silently. The unexpected pregnancy just made it all that much worse. “I'm sorry. I really am, but this is just something I have to do.” He face scrunched up as a renewed surge of sadness welled up inside of him. “Bad Luck is my life,” he sobbed. “Without it, I have nothing! But-”

Kai smiled at his cousin. “It's alright, Shuichi.”

“Take as much time as you need,” Kei agreed.

Shuichi sniffed and stared at the twins in awe.

“Besides, we have a little side project we've been working on,” Kai explained.

“I've, uh, been thinking about going home,” Michael spoke up. “It's been awhile since I've seen my family and I want…I want my children to see where I'm from, ya know? Besides, my folks want to be there when Anzu has the baby.” He shrugged. “This's actually pretty good timing.” He smiled at Shuichi. “Like Kai and Kei said, do what you must. The last thing we need is for you to collapse from exhaustion, or something.”

“Thank you, Michael.”

Hiro sighed. “Well, I must admit, it has been good to spend time with my wife and son. If we were to go back into the studio full force, or hell, even half force…If I was still single, it wouldn't bother me as much, but I have a family now, so…” He lifted his head and smiled at his front man. “Alright, Shu. To tell you the truth, I think we've been long due a little r and r.”

One by one, the others swept their gaze towards the manager and synth player. They all waited expectantly.

Suguru really did not like the idea of them taking any amount of time off. It would just be that much harder to rise to the top when they came back. Like Shuichi, Bad Luck was his life. Without it, he felt as if he had nothing, that he was nothing, but one look at Shuichi and he knew that it had to be done. He saw the exhaustion, the strain. And as much as he tried to ignore it, he felt the same weariness in his bones. He sighed noisily. “Just promise me that we'll have one last gig, or something? A small tour, anything! Some sort of farewell performance.”

Shuichi smiled brightly at the man. “Actually-”

All eyes swept towards the purple haired singer.

“Tohma came to see me yesterday afternoon and he wants us to be the special guests on the MCVMA's.”

Silence greeted this announcement. Then like an explosion, the other members of Bad Luck began celebrating their good fortune.

Hiro came twirling towards him. “Tell me this isn't some sort of bad joke!”

Shuichi, grinning like a madman, shook his head.

“Yes!” He jumped Suguru, laughing.

Shuichi hated to be the bearer of bad news, but… “We have two weeks,” he shouted over the noise.

The noise died down as if a button had been pushed.

“What!” Suguru demanded, twirling around, Hiro still on his back.

Shuichi blushed. “The, uh, award show is in two weeks and it's live.”

As screams of disbelief echoed throughout the apartment, Shuichi saw Marcus enter, his hand on the butt of his gun. The singer caught his eye and shook his head, waving him back. Marcus nodded and retreated.

Shuichi turned back towards the others, the corner of his mouth tilted in a smile. Just because Bad Luck was officially disbanding did not mean they had to stop being friends, but it was the end of an era and it made Shuichi sad.

 

* * *

 

“Take care, Shu,” Hiro said, hugging his best friend a few hours later. “See ya at the studio in the morning,” he said, walking down the hall towards the elevator where the others were waiting.

“Bye, Hiro. Bye, guys!” Shuichi kept waving until the elevator doors closed. He then walked back into the apartment and shutting the door behind him, leaned against the door and sighed heavily.

They had two weeks before the award show. What had he been thinking agreeing to this?

Pushing away from the door, he limped through the living room to the stereo. He ran his fingers along the hundreds of CD's that lined the shelves. A great deal of them was Nittle Grasper and Bad Luck. His fingers stopped over “The Rage Beat” CD single. Pulling it out, he flipped it over and read the back. There was the original version with his musical arrangement, the version with the souped up arrangement by Suguru. Then there were several remix versions. One was the “zoom mix”, another “the last element mix”. The others were various club mixes.

A plan began to formulate in his head.

“This might work,” he muttered to himself, nodding. “All I need is to pick the final song.” He snorted, shaking his head. “Pick a song, any song! You only have about forty singles to choose from.”

“They say-”

Startled, Shuichi gasped and twirled around. With his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face, was Eiri.

“-talking to yourself is a sign of intelligence.” Eiri snorted. “But in your case, I think it's a sign of derision.”

“Dammit, Eiri,” Shuichi snapped, a hand over his pounding heart. “You scared the shit out of me!”

Chuckling, the writer pushed away from the wall and crossed the room. He kissed his husband and flopped down onto the couch. “How'd it go?”

“They took the news better than I thought they would.”

“Baka. I told you they would.”

“It did look as if Suguru was going to argue, but he gave in. They all said to take my time and do what I have to. Besides,” Shuichi sat down on the couch, folding his legs underneath him, “Kei and Kai said they have a side project they've been working on. Hiro wants to spend more time with Ayaka and Kazahaya and Michael wants to head back to the States and see his family.”

Eiri nodded. “And Fujisaki?”

Shuichi shrugged. “No idea. He didn't say, but he's very talented. He could help many bands as a music arranger or even as a manager.”

“Hm.” That was true. Eiri took in the CD in Shuichi's hand. “What were you doing when I came in?”

“Huh? Oh! Trying to figure out which songs to use in our performance.”

“Decide on anything?”

“Sorta. I was thinking of starting with an instrumental version of `The Rage Beat' and then a second song, but I can't figure out which one to use.”

“Hm.” Eiri stood up and walked over to the CD shelving unit. His eyes roved over the music store that had somehow managed to relocate in their living room. He really had to go through them one of these days, preferably when Shuichi was not home.

“I thought it would be ironic to use ‘The Rage Beat', ya know? It was the song that introduced us to the world and the song that we'll use to say goodbye.” Shuichi swallowed over a sudden lump in his throat. “For the other song, I was thinking about ‘Jounetsu Ballad', ‘Masking Pleasure Around' or ‘Spicy Marmalade', but I don't know. I want something really fun and upbeat. Something to dance to.”

Eiri snorted. That narrowed it down. He slid a CD off the shelf and tossed it to Shuichi.

Shuichi blinked at the choice. “'Spicy Marmalade',” he read. He tapped the CD case against his chin. The other one beat a rhythm against his knee. The plan that had started formulating earlier picked up speed. “This might work.” He looked up when a shadow fell upon him. “Uh? Eiri? Wha…?”

The writer grabbed the CD's out of his husband's hands and set them on the coffee table behind him. He knelt on the edge of the couch and leaned over Shuichi, a hand on the back of the couch, as the singer reclined back. Eiri captured his husband's lips and kissed him passionately.

Shuichi melted into the kiss and encircled Eiri's neck with his arms, pulling the man closer as the kiss deepened. Shuichi bent his legs and parted them automatically so that Eiri could settle between them.

Eiri lay on top of the smaller man. The blond writer pried open Shuichi's mouth with his tongue, slipping it inside as he unbuttoned Shuichi's shirt and flung it open. He felt the reaction he was searching for immediately as his husband's arousal poked into him.

Their tongues battled, chasing each other from one damp cavern to another. The match ended in a draw and an erotic, sensual dance began. Eiri trailed kisses along Shuichi's jaw and down to his neck where he suckled. He had a strong inclination to once again leave his mark so he did so

Shuichi moaned, his fingers tangling themselves in Eiri's soft, blond locks.

Eiri's hands trailed softly down Shuichi's chest.

Shuichi gasped when his husband tweaked his nipples. He trailed his hands down Eiri's back and tugged his shirt out of his pants. He slipped his hands down the front of Eiri's shirt until his fingers hit something hard. Blindly, he unbuckled the belt and slid it from the loops, tossing it onto the coffee table. He then undid the button and tugged the zipper down. He reached inside and squeezed the hard length he found within.

Eiri flung his head back and hissed with a shudder. Panting as heavily as his singer husband, Eiri captured Shuichi's lips and ravished his mouth as he groped the hard lump that lay pressed against his own freed cock. One hand captured Shuichi's small wrists and held them above his head while the other one groped him through the thin cotton. Shuichi flung his head back. His gasp turned into long breathy moans as Eiri squeezed him, massaging him expertly.

“Eiri,” Shuichi cried out breathlessly.

Sitting up, Eiri grabbed the waistband of Shuichi's sweatpants and tugging off the offending material, tossed them aside. He gazed down at the naked man beneath him. His breath hitched and he licked his lips, feeling himself getting harder at the glorious sight. “You're so beautiful, Shuichi.”

A hot blush flushed across Shuichi's face.

Eiri leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on the man's swelling stomach. He rolled his eyes up and gazed into the teary eyes of his husband.

Crawling up the man, Eiri plundered his husband's mouth, kissing him like he wanted to eat him. Shuichi did not like it when they did this dry, but it never stayed dry for very long. Natural lube was what they used. Shuichi gasped into Eiri's mouth as he felt his husband's cock at his anus. He groaned, hissing as the large invader was pushed in. Eiri grabbed the narrow hips and pressed inside one tight inch at a time until he was fully sheathed inside, tearing moan filled cries out of the man pinned underneath him. Pulling himself out, Eiri then thrust back in. He rocked his hips, setting up a steady pace, quickening as his own excitement lubed the tight passage squeezing his dick.

Shuichi tossed his head back, arched his back and cried out. His hands spasmed on Eiri's shoulders. “Oh, God, Eiri!”

Eiri buried his face against his husband's neck, grunting and he thrust inside of his husband repeatedly, feeling the pressure building as they rose higher and higher. Finally, they reached the crest and the pressure exploded like a balloon popping. Both men cried out as the orgasm hit them.

Panting, Eiri pulled out and collapsed besides the man, cradling him tightly against him. He kissed the top of Shuichi's head and sighed. “I love you, Shu.”

Shuichi tipped his head back and was met with a soft, chaste kiss. “I know.”

Eiri sighed and thought about the performance Shuichi had to do in two weeks. He was nervous about the whole thing. Was he ready to do something like that? The baka could go without his cane for short periods, but he got so tired so easily these days. He was not sure if he should let Shuichi go through with this. “Be careful, alright? I don't want you doing anything strenuous. Understand?”

Grinning, Shuichi flipped over and straddled Eiri. “Are you concerned about me?” he teased.

Eiri snorted and held Shuichi's hips. “Hell no. I'm worried about our son.”

Shuichi chuckled and snuggled on top of his husband. “Liar.”

“Sure.”

Sighing contently, Shuichi closed his eyes. “Love you,” he whispered as he fell asleep.

“I love you, too,” Eiri whispered back.

 

* * *

 

**The Next Day - NG Productions**

“…instrumental version of ‘The Rage Beat'. It'll start with just Hiro on the acoustic guitar, Suguru'll play the piano, and then we'll add an orchestra towards the end. They'll finish the piece, extending it into some transition piece while the rest of us get ready for ‘Spicy Marmalade'. It'll be full out! Lights, fireworks, dancers!”

Shuichi looked around him at his friends and band mates. He was grinning and bouncing up and down, barely able to conceal his excitement. He stood at the head of the long conference table, his back to the windows, addressing his band the next day at NG studios. He was vaguely aware of his bodyguard, Marcus, standing by the door across the room from him.

“So, what do you think?”

Impressed, Hiro nodded. “I gotta admit, that sounds pretty damn cool, man.”

Kai, Kei and Michael agreed.

Suguru was another story, but it was one they heard countless times before.

“I don't know, Shindou-san. I mean, if we had more than two weeks, we might be able to pull this off, but with only two weeks?” The diminutive manager/synth player shook his head.

“C'mon, Fujisaki,” Shuichi said, slapping his hands on the table in the conference room. “Where's your sense of adventure?”

“Shindou-san…”

“It's not like I'm forcing you all to learn a new song! We've played them a hundred zillion times!”

“He's right, Suguru,” Hiro told the man.

“It'll only be you on the piano and Hiro on his acoustic guitar at the beginning anyway,” Kai explained. “The rest of us don't have to worry about doing anything.”

Kei nodded. “Until we get into position to do ‘Spicy Marmalade'.”

“Right,” Kai said with a nod. “Yes, we'll have to come up with a transition piece, but that shouldn't be too hard.”

“We could always ask the violinist if they have any suggestions, ya know?”

Shuichi nodded. “That's a good idea. It would free us up to concentrate on other things.”

“The only thing the rest of us have to worry about is playing ‘Spicy Marmalade'. Which should be a no-brainer,” Michael added. “Like Shu said, we've played it about half a zillion times.”

Suguru sighed and flopped back in the chair. He ran his fingers through his hair. He leaned his head back and stared at the drop down ceiling, thinking. They made it sound so easy. Not only did they have to work on two songs, they had to figure out a viable transition piece, talk with the makeup artist, the costumer, set designer, choreographer, lighting crew, pyrotechnic experts, dancers, security…

They also had to find a doctor and physical therapist for Shuichi just in case his own could not be present.

That had been Eiri's one stipulation to letting Shuichi do this. Both had to be present the day of the show and through out all the rehearsals.

Suguru sighed is resignation. “Fine. Fine. We'll do it.”

“Yes!” Shuichi cried out, throwing his hands in the air.

Kai, Kei and Michael whooped and clapped, laughing at their success.

“You're a good man, Suguru,” Hiro said. “You made the right decision.”

Suguru snorted. “I hope so,” he muttered. Otherwise, it was his head. He sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair. “Alright,” he announced, slapping his hands on the table and standing up. “I'll make some calls and see if I can round up an orchestra on short notice. In the meantime, why don't we run through ‘Spicy Marmalade'. Tonight, I'll try to come up with some changeover pieces and tomorrow we can do a complete run through.”

“Sounds good,” Hiro agreed with a nod, standing up.

“I can't wait to get started,” Kei announced. The others agree wholeheartedly.

Shuichi smirked happily. It was all starting to come together. He just hoped they could pull it off.

Suguru gathered his papers together and tapped them into a neat pile as the others, all talking at once, trooped out of the conference room. “I sure hope this doesn't blow up in our faces,” he muttered.

“Don't worry, Fujisaki,” Shuichi smiled broadly slapping the younger man's shoulder as they walked into the hall. Marcus shadowed his every move.

“Shindou-san, are you sure you want to do ‘Spicy Marmalade'? I mean, I don't mind doing it, but it hasn't been that long since the accident. Why not do-?”

Shuichi waved away his manager's concern. “Don't worry, Fujisaki. It'll all come together.” S lapping his younger friend on the back again, Shuichi vanished into rehearsal studio 2.

As Shuichi walked towards the sound booth, he watched Hiro, Kai, Kei and Michael through the windows unnoticed and smiled. Kei sat down at the piano and started doing an imitation of Stevie Wonder.

Shuichi laughed at his friends ridiculous antics, but then slapped a hand over his mouth. He fled out of the studio and raced to the bathroom as the breakfast Eiri forced him to eat this morning returned on him, vaguely aware that Marcus was hot on his heels.

 

* * *

 

Spitting into the toilet, Shuichi used his cane to help him get to his feet. As he limped to the sink, he heard the toilet flush behind him, getting rid of all the evidence that he had thrown up. He leaned his cane against the wall and cupped his hands under the faucet, which came on automatically. Splashing water onto his face, he used his hands as a cup and rinsed out his mouth. Sighing, he gripped the sides of the sink and closed his eyes, hanging his head over the white porcelain bowl.

A hand crept to his belly and lightly traced lazy circles over his belly. He still had not figured out what he was going to tell the guys about his pregnancy. Eiri had taken it surprisingly well as had Riku. His adopted son was ecstatic at the idea of having a baby brother or sister. But how would the others take it?

Sighing, Shuichi snagged some paper towels from the dispenser and patted his face dry. Grabbing his cane, he limped out of the bathroom and returned to the rehearsal studio.

 

* * *

 

**That Evening**

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open. “See you guys tomorrow,” Shuichi said as he headed towards the black jeep Cherokee parked right besides the elevators in the underground parking garage.

“Bye, Shu,” they all waved.

The singer slid into the backseat of his husband's jeep. His bodyguard shut the door behind him before getting into the front seat. With a squeal, the car was soon out of sight.

Michael sighed enviously. “It must be great,” he commented as he headed towards his car, his keys jangling in his hand, “to have a chauffer drive you around everywhere.”

“Shu doesn't drive,” Hiro reminded the bassist as he stood besides his motorcycle. “And Yuki-san can't drive him around twenty-four seven. Because of whom he is, he cannot very well use public transportation. He would be mobbed . He does have his bodyguards now, but Marcus and Blade make Shu stand out even more than he already does.”

“Ya know,” Kai said, “I don't know whether to pity Shu or feel envious.” He shrugged and got into the car.

Kei started his brand new car and just sat, listening to it purr. Hiro and Michael chuckled. Kei's new sports car had cost a fortune and a half, but it had been well worth it according to Kei. It was his new baby. When his brother slapped him, Kei chuckled and tore out of their parking spot and out into the street with a loud squeal from the tires.

“See ya in the morning,” Michael said as he too vanished into the early evening traffic.

Hiro turned to see Suguru deep in thought. “Suguru?”

Suguru snapped out of his thoughts and blinked. “Huh?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I was just wondering if we can really pull this off.”

“Don't worry about it. I'm sure Shuichi knows what he's doing. He wouldn't have suggested doing something he knew he wouldn't have a snowball's chance in hell of accomplishing.”

“I'm sure you're right, but…I still can't help wondering.”

Hiro nodded in understanding. “I know, but Shuichi is a remarkable person. You should know by now not to underestimate him.”

Suguru nodded. He knew Hiro was right, but something was bothering him. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Have you noticed anything odd about Shindou-san?”

“Odd? Like what?”

“I don't know, just..--Never mind. I'll call you later, Hiro.” The diminutive man slid into his car and pulled away with a wave.

Hiro frowned after the man. What had that been about?

 

* * *

 

**Uesugi-Shindou Residence**

“ _Tadaima_ ,” Shuichi called as he entered the apartment. Toeing off his shoes, he called singsong, “Eiri! Riku!” He slid into his slippers and walked into the living room. The whole apartment was dark but for a lamp in the corner of the living room. “Hello?”

As he searched the apartment, he turned on every light he could in an attempt to try to quell the rising panic he felt.

Like the guilt, he felt over the deaths of his old bodyguards, the dread and fear that gripped him occasionally when his husband was not around was something that Dr. Hikari had not been able to rid him of completely.

Shuichi himself did not understand why he got like this, but Dr. Hikari said that his abandonment issues were in response to how Eiri had treated him early on in their relationship. The writer had ingrained it in Shuichi's mind that eventually, he would leave him and that was Shuichi's biggest fear; that he would be left alone, that everybody he cared about would desert him. It did not matter how many times or how many ways Eiri told him he loved him. That fear was always there and always would be.

It did not seem as if his husband or Riku were home. Where could they have gone? Neither said anything this morning anything about having to go anywhere. Had something come up?

Shuichi paled. Had Eiri or Riku been hurt? Had something happened? Had they been rushed to the hospital? Maybe he should-

Shuichi violently shook those thoughts aside. He had to try to calm down and think rationally.

Eiri had finished the final draft of his story the day before and had been going over it one last time before he sent it to Mizuki. Maybe he finished sooner than he thought he would and decided to hand it in, just to get it over with. Eiri said something about speaking with their lawyer again as well. Shuichi knew he had not gone to see his psychiatrist. Eiri had not seen her in years, but he could have gone out for a walk. And Riku had been saying something about a huge history test coming up. Maybe he’d gone to a friend’s house to study?

These same thoughts did not make him feel any better. The irrational side of his mind was stronger and bullied his way to the forefront.

With a heavy heart, Shuichi flopped down onto the couch and stared blankly at the television, trying desperately not to think.

 

* * *

 

_I heard Eiri’s soft snores following me as I stepped out of my bedroom. Shutting the door behind me, I tread quietly down the hall into the spare bedroom. Silently so I did not wake up my sleeping angels, I tiptoed across the carpeted room to the white crib. I reached inside and touched my baby's soft, warm cheek._

_Suddenly, a shrill ringing shattered the silence of the apartment. My heart beating wicked fast, I straightened and listened. T he ringing continued. It sounded like the phone, but the sound was distant._

_I went out into the hall and listened as the shrill ringing echoed through the apartment. I could not tell where it was coming from. If it was the phone, then as I made my way back down the hall to the master bedroom, it should get louder, but it did not. The tone remained far-off._

_Turning around, I headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Maybe the extension in the bedroom was broken. That would explain why the ringing sounded so far away, because the extension in the kitchen would be the only phone in the house, other than their cellphones._

_As I neared the phone, I realized that it was not ringing and yet the ringing was louder here then it had been upstairs. What was going on? My hand reached out for the phone and everything started to fade…_

Violet eyes fluttered open. Sitting up, Shuichi sniffed and scrubbed a hand over his face. It was only then that he realized he had been crying. Wiping at his tear stained face, he dragged his fingers through his hair and sighed.

He jumped, startled, as a ringing swept through the house. A hand over his racing heart, he went into the kitchen and grabbed it mid-ring. “Hello?” he greeted, his voice thick from crying.

“Shindou-san,” came a female voice over the line.

Shuichi blinked, trying to place the voice. “Yes.”

“Hi, this is Dr. Amano. I'm sorry for calling so late.”

Dr. Amano? Who-? His eyes widened and his heart started beating faster. “Oh, yes, Dr. Amano. That is fine. How're you?”

“I'm doing great. How about yourself?”

Shuichi sniffed and chuckled. “Other than having no energy and throwing up several times a day? Fine.”

Dr. Amano laughed. “Well, you may as well get used to them, Shindou-san because they aren't going anywhere any time soon.”

Confused, Shuichi blinked. “What?”

The doctor laughed again. “Congratulations, Shindou-san. You are indeed pregnant. Ten weeks to be exact.”

Shuichi felt numb with shock.

“Shindou-san?”

He was pregnant. “Are you sure?” he asked in a serious, calm voice. This did not seem real at all.

Dr. Amano chuckled. “I'm sure, Shindou-san. I want to set up an appointment to have you come in to have a sonogram, all right? There's something I want to check.”

“Okay.”

“When is good for you?”

“Actually, the next two weeks I'll be busy getting ready for a concert.”

“Would you be able to come in tomorrow at five-thirty? I usually have hours until five, but because of your special circumstances, I think it'll be best if you came after hours. Can you do that?”

Bad Luck really had a lot to do within the next two weeks in order to get ready for their performance on the MCVMA's, but then Eiri had made it clear that he wanted him to take it easy. He was sure that the guys would want to continue until the wee hours of the morning, but knowing Eiri, his husband would storm NG if he did not show up within half an hour of the appointed time that he set for him. Having an actual excuse for bailing would help alleviate the guilt.

“Sure. Sounds good.”

“Alright. Then, I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Goodbye and congratulations, Shindou-san.”

Shuichi blushed and laid a hand on his belly. “Thanks, Doctor. Goodbye.” He pressed the talk button, set the phone down on the table behind him, and stared blankly into space.

A baby.

Dr. Amano said he was ten weeks pregnant. That would mean the baby was conceived a couple weeks after that first night home. A hot blush spread across his face as he recalled just how it was conceived.

A baby.

He was going to have Eiri's baby. Tears filled his eyes. A sob shattered the silence of the kitchen. He clamped a hand over his mouth as tears tickled annoyingly down his face. He could not believe it! His other hand rubbed lazy circles over his belly. There was a life inside here? Another person growing inside of him that he and the love of his life had created.

Shuichi laughed through his tears, a huge smile on his face.

“Definitely derision,” said an unexpected voice.

Yelping in surprise, Shuichi swung around to see his husband standing in the doorway with a smirk on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. “Eiri,” he breathed over a pounding heart. With a face wet from crying, Shuichi tossed himself at his husband.

Eiri hugged his husband back. Tipping Shuichi's head back, he kissed him firmly on the lips. “What are you crying for this time?”

“Dr. Amano called,” Shuichi cried through his renewal of tears. He sniffed and wiped futilely at the drops of water that fell down his cheeks. He could not stop himself from smiling.

His heart pounding, Eiri held his breath.

“We-we're going to have a baby!”

Eiri blinked, staring at his husband in incomprehension. “What--did you--say?”

Shuichi's eyes sparkled and a huge smile caused his face to glow. “A baby, Eiri! A baby,” he cried, tears spilling down his face.

“A--baby. We're…”

Feeling lightheaded, Eiri stumbled around Shuichi and flopped into a chair. He stared blankly down the hall, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he and Shuichi had created a life together and it was growing right now inside of the man he had promised to love, honor and cherish six months ago. He had known it was a possibility, but a possibility was not fact. It was not reality.

He blinked, startled out of his thoughts as a worried face was suddenly inches from his.

“Eiri? Are you okay?”

Eiri reached out and traced the lines of Shuichi's face lightly. A gentle smile graced his face. Cupping the side of Shuichi's face, Eiri ran his thumb over his lush, full lips. Dropping his head, he kissed Shuichi chastely then enveloped him in a hug. Pulling away, he cupped Shuichi's sexy face and stared deeply into those vivid violet eyes. “I love you, Shindou Shuichi.”

Shuichi smiled sweetly. “I know,” he whispered, throwing his husband's words back at him.

Taking Shuichi's small hands within his, Eiri stood up and pulled his husband to his feet. Scooping the singer into his arms, he captured his lips and kissed him slowly, gently and deeply.

Shuichi wrapped his arms around his husband's neck and kissed him back.

Eiri carried the singer through the house and up to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him without breaking the kiss.

He crossed the room and set Shuichi down gently on the bed.

The singer used his arms and feet to push himself backwards, until he was in the middle of the bed.

Eiri followed him, the kiss becoming hungrier and more demanding. Eiri pushed Shuichi back and lay down on top of him, between his parted legs. Their hands fumbled

Eiri held himself off Shuichi in a push-up motion and gazed down at the naked man beneath him. His golden hazel eyes took in the wide, broad shoulders, long chiseled torso, narrow hips, and his stiff, thick manhood standing at attention between long shapely thighs. “You're beautiful, Shuichi.”

A hot blush colored the singer's face.

Eiri swooped in and captured Shuichi's mouth, his tongue licking along his already swollen lips, asking permission to enter. Shuichi opened his mouth and caressed the tongue that slunk inside.

He wrapped his arms around Eiri's neck, his fingers running through the blond locks, holding the man he was in love with close. Eiri's fingers gently tortured his husband's nipples, causing Shuichi to groan against his mouth. He then ran a hand down Shuichi's chest to his thigh, being careful to avoid the swollen, weeping member between them. As his hand started back up, it detoured and cupped that which he had avoided. He squeezed him and kneaded his balls. Shuichi groaned and his fingers dug into Eiri's shoulders in response, arching into the touch.

Eiri pulled back and without breaking eye contact, crawled down Shuichi, and took his nipple into his mouth. Shuichi moaned and writhed as his nipple was suckled, licked and bit. Eiri then breathed open-mouthed kisses down his body, stopping just above the groin.

“Eiri,” Shuichi breathed.

“Shuichi.”

Eiri crawled back up his husband's body and plundered his mouth while he searched under the pillows for what he knew was there. When his hand found the tube, blindly he opened it and smeared a small amount into his palm then tossed the tube over his shoulder, not caring where it went. He smeared the gel over his own rigid cock and then without warning, pressed two fingers inside of his husband.

Shuichi broke the kiss and tossed his head back, giving a sharp cry. He arched his back and tensed. He forced himself to relax and was soon moaning and crying out as waves of ecstasy and desire swept through him as Eiri's fingers fucked him slowly, finding that sweet spot.

All too soon, Eiri's fingers were gone, only to be replaced by a much larger but similarly shaped object. Eiri pressed himself into the tight, hot opening. He rolled his hips and drove into Shuichi repeatedly. Shuichi wrapped his legs around Eiri, hooking his heels around his husband's knees. He pumped his hips to meet the fierce plunges. He held him tightly, forcing him deeper and harder. He clawed at Eiri's back, his cries echoing each thrust.

Eiri sped up as he felt the end nearing. He felt Shuichi tense right before he flung his head back and cried out passionately. His seed sprayed them both. Several more thrusts and Eiri grunted, emptying himself into his husband. Panting, Eiri pulled out and collapsed onto the bed besides Shuichi, who wrapped his sweaty arms around him.

After several minutes, their breathing had evened out.

Reached out and laid a hand on the singer’s swollen belly. It was hard to believe there was another person in there.

When Shuichi clasped a hand over Eiri's much larger one, the blond writer lifted his head and exchanged a soft smile with the singer. Propping up on his elbow, he kissed Shuichi softly than resting his head back on Shuichi's bony shoulder, smiled at their laced hands.

Shuichi combed his writer husband's thick blond hair as they both relaxed in the solitude of each other's arms.

“Hey, Eiri?”

“Hm.”

“Where did you go? Where’s Riku?”

“I finished my story and went to met Mizuki for lunch. Afterwards, I went to meet our lawyer.”

Shuichi's brows furrowed in thought. “Didn't you go see her before right after we were married?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why-?”

“I just went to see her about updating a couple things since we're now married,” Eiri explained. “I also went to talk to her about releasing a press statement about us getting married, but with everything that happened, she held off releasing it and today I went to update that statement.”

“Oh, you mean, because of what Seguchi said yesterday.”

“Yes.”

Shuichi chuckled. “You'll have to call her to update it again, huh?”

Eiri snorted and smirked, rubbing his hand over the belly that would soon swell with the life he had helped to create. “And Riku is staying at Renjiro’s tonight so that they can study for that history test.”

“Ah. Okay. Oh! Before I forget. Dr. Amano wants me to come in tomorrow at five-thirty.”

“Why?”

Shuichi shrugged. “Don't know. She said something about checking something out.”

“Hm. Well, I'll be there early to pick you up. We'll go straight to the hospital from the studio.”

Sitting up, he kissed his husband and drew the covers up. He spooned Shuichi as the singer curled up on his side and laid a protective hand over his belly. Kissing the side of his head, Eiri breathed in the fruity scent of Shuichi's hair and drifted off to sleep.

 

**…To Be Continued…**


	8. More Surprises

**Chapter 8: More Surprises**

**The Next Morning - Uesugi-Shindou Residence**

Eiri was placing soba into a bowl when his husband finally decided to saunter into the kitchen late the next morning.

“Morning,” Shuichi yawned. He pulled out a chair at the table, sat down and dropped his head onto his folded arms with another jaw popping yawn.

“You're not sick are you?” Eiri asked as he set the tongs down on the counter and carried the two bowls to the table. He set one in front of his husband and the other in front of his seat opposite.

“No, just tired,” Shuichi answered as he sat up. He muttered over the meal, “ _Ita da ki masu_ ,” before picking up his chopsticks and stuffing some noodles into his mouth. “Hmmm,” he hummed in delight, smacking his lips. “It's good, Eiri.” He set his chopsticks down and got up to pour himself some juice. “You know that feeling when your eyes feel like they're burning, but you're not tired?”

“Hmm. What about it?”

“Well, that's how I feel right now.” Shuichi sat back down at the kitchen table and took a healthy gulp of his juice. “I don't even have the energy to pick up my chopsticks and eat.”

“You'd better eat,” Eiri snapped. “Just because you like to starve yourself doesn't mean you have to do the same thing to our child.”

“Aw, Eiri! I do not starve myself! And even if I did, I wouldn't do that to our kid.”

“Damn right you're not.”

They ate in silence for several minutes, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

Eiri was worried now more than ever about letting Shuichi do this performance now that they were positive Shuichi was pregnant. He was not sure if letting Shuichi prance around stage was a good idea.

Shuichi, on the other hand, was thinking about his stage show for “Spicy Marmalade”. He knew he wanted lasers, lights, fireworks or some sort of pyrotechnics and dancing!

“I'm going to be hiring a nutritionist,” came Eiri's unexpected voice, breaking into Shuichi's thoughts.

His chopsticks paused halfway to his mouth; Shuichi looked at his husband dumbly. “A what?”

“A nutritionist. You may thrive of eating nothing but junk food, but I will not have my son ingesting that crap.”

Groaning, Shuichi slumped down and set his chopsticks down. A nutritionist? That sucked big time.

“So that means no pocky-”

Shuichi gasped. That was just plain sacrilegious!

“-no cookies, candy, ice cream, chips and no caffeine. That means no tea, iced or hot, coffee or pop.”

Shuichi felt ill. “Eiri,” he whined.

Eiri shook his head as he finished his noodles. “I mean it, Shu.”

“Oh, man!” Pouting, Shuichi slumped further in his seat.

“Eat, Shuichi,” Eiri commanded as he stood up and placed his bowl in the sink.

Shuichi fisted his hand against his cheek and frowned into the buckwheat noodles, his chopsticks poking at the slimy pasta. He suddenly had no appetite. “Ya know,” he said grumpily, “you're lucky you already gave up smoking.”

Eiri sat back down with a fresh cup of coffee and looked at his husband with a cocked eyebrow. “Oh?” he asked, taking a sip.

“Yeah, because you'd have to give it up for the baby.”

“Hm. Good thing I quit years ago.” Because that would have just plain sucked not to be able to smoke, even if it was for the baby. He would have gone insane within the first day. Hell, within the first thirty seconds, he amended.

Shuichi huffed. “Yeah, too damn bad. It'd teach you right.”

Eiri snorted, shaking his head. “Oh! Speaking of which…”

“I know I know.” Shuichi would have to either somehow break the news to the guys about the baby or somehow get Hiro to not smoke around him without telling him the real reason why. “I'll have a talk with Hiro.”

“Good. Now finish eating or you're going to be late.” Eiri grabbed his cup and stood up. Walking around the table, he kissed the top of Shuichi's head and headed to his office.

Shuichi glared into the by now soggy bowl of noodles and growled. A nutritionist? Damn. Double damn. “By the way, where’s Riku?”

“School.”

“Already?!”

“What do you mean ‘already’? It’s almost noon, baka.”

“…Oh.”

 

* * *

 

“Remember I have to go to the doctor's later,” Shuichi reminded his husband as he slid into his sandals an hour later.

“Hn.” Eiri crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe.

“Well, I'm outta here,” Shuichi smiled, standing up. He kissed his husband thoroughly and dashed out of the apartment, eager to get to the studio.

“Hey,” Eiri called down the hallway. “Make sure you take it easy today, understand? I don't want you to do anything too strenuous!”

Shuichi tossed the writer a lopsided grin over his shoulder as he stepped into the elevator, Marcus taking up his position in the front, as if to say, “don't worry so much”.

For some reason, Eiri did not quite trust his husband.

 

* * *

 

The door to rehearsal studio 2 burst open and a smiling Shuichi jumped inside. “Good morning everyone!”

From his stool where he was tuning his guitar, Hiro glanced up at his best friends and smiled. “Hey, Shu.” He saw Shuichi's guard take up position outside the studio door.

“Morning,” Kai called as he stood up after plugging in his guitar.

Shuichi skipped happily into the sound booth and glanced around. He lifted his bag over his head and set it down against the wall out of the way. “Where're the others?”

“Suguru and Sakano are in a meeting with the conductor of that children's orchestra he managed to get for the performance,” Hiro explained. “And Kei and Michael went to get coffee.”

_“So that means, no pocky, no cookies, candy, ice cream, chips and no caffeine. That means no tea, iced or hot, coffee or pop.”_

Shuichi groaned. The next thirty weeks were going to suck big time.

“What's wrong, Shu?” Kai asked his cousin.

“Huh? Oh, uh…I have an announcement to make, but I'll wait until the others come back.”

Hiro and Kai threw a questioning glance at one another.

“It doesn't have anything to do with the performance does it?” Kai asked his cousin.

“Sort of,” Shuichi admitted. Now that he knew for certain he was pregnant, he was going to have to take it easy from now on, which totally sucked because he wanted to go full out for this performance. He wanted to show those suited stiffs how wrong they had been to write off Shindou Shuichi and Bad Luck.

“We're still doing it right?”

Shuichi threw them a goofy smile. “Of course we are.” He caught the concern and worry on their faces. “Don't worry! It's good news!” He beamed them a bright smile, all but bursting with energy.

Since he was not sure how long the others would be, he decided to kill some time. He hopped over to the piano and pulled out the piano bench. Sitting down he lifted the lid that covered the ivory keys. Lacing his fingers, he stretched his arms out in front of him, crackling his knuckles loudly. Wiggling his fingers, he ran them over the keys a few times and then started his warm up exercises with the scales.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Hiro clamp a cigarette in his mouth. His fingers paused their ministrations as he watched the guitarist pull out his lighter from his shirt pocket and flick it to life, engulfing the tip of his cigarette in fire. Remembering his husband’s warning, Shuichi shot up from the piano and raced across the sound booth towards his best friend, snatching the cigarette out of his mouth.

“Hey,” Hiro cried out in surprise. “Shuichi! What the hell!”

Kai glanced up, curious.

Shuichi snapped the cigarette in half and tossed it onto the floor, crushing it with his foot. “Sorry, Hiro, but there's no smoking in here.”

“Not like it's the first time, Shu.”

“I know, but if Eiri finds out you've been smoking around me, he'll kill you.”

“Why would he kill me for smoking around you? He's never said anything before now. Besides, he used to smoke twice as much as I do.”

Shuichi nodded as he made his way back to the piano. “I know, but…things--have changed.” He blushed.

“Changed how?”

“Does this have something to do with what you were talking about before?” Kai wondered aloud, as he settled himself on his stool.

Shuichi only nodded as he sat back down at the piano. He stared at his laced fingers in his lap, his face growing warmer. Clearing his throat, he tinkled his fingers lightly over the keys, filling the stark silence with a beautifully intricate, but sweet melody. “C'mon. Let's practice. Who knows how long the others will take?”

 

* * *

 

As the last notes of “The Rage Beat” faded, they were rewarded with warm applause. Startled, Shuichi snapped open eyes he did not remember closing and blushed when he saw watching them through the window Sakano, Suguru, Kei, Michael and another man he did not recognize. He assumed he was the conductor Suguru and Sakano had that meeting with earlier.

“That was perfect, Shindou-san,” their young manager said as he and the others entered the sound booth. “I never realized that you were such a good piano player.”

“Hey, just because my music compositions are not the best in the world-“

“Nakano-san, Kai-kun, Shindou-san, let me introduce you to Yakamoto Eiji -san,” Suguru said, cutting off his singer mid-yell. “He's the conductor of the all children's orchestra here in Tokyo.”

Yakamoto Eiji was a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, but good strong looks and stance. He bowed politely to the members of Bad Luck. “It's a pleasure and an honor to meet you. Thank you for even considering using the children. Most people would have chosen a professional orchestra of adults. Children are not really taken seriously.”

“Thank you, Yakamoto-san,” Shuichi bowed back, the argument completely forgotten. “I'd rather use children than adults anyway. They are just so cute! I love children.”

Hiro snorted. “That's because you are one.”

“Hey!”

“Anyway,” Suguru said loudly turning towards an amused Yakamoto, “thank you once again, Yakamoto-san for agreeing to do this. I apologize that you have such a short amount of time to prepare.”

Yakamoto-san waved the younger man's concern aside. “Don't worry. We'll be ready in time. They're very hard and diligent workers.”

“Not to mention little geniuses,” Michael commented. “I went to one of their performances last year,” he explained when the others looked at him. “If I hadn't known better, I wouldn't have known they were kids.”

“ _Domo arigato_ ,” Yakamoto-san bowed. “We won't let you down. Now, if you will excuse me, I should be getting back. We have a lot of work to do in a short amount of time.”

“I'll escort you out,” Sakano told the older man.

“Thank you again, Yakamoto-san,” Suguru bowed. “We'll see you this weekend?”

“Of course. Until then.” Bowing once again, the conductor of the children's orchestra was lead out of the rehearsal studio by Bad Luck's producer.

Michael walked over to his guitar and lifted the strap over his head, tuning it.

“So, we gonna practice, or what?” Kei asked as he sat down behind his drum set, his drumsticks in his hands.

“Actually, Shuichi has something he needs to talk to us about first,” Hiro said.

“What's going on?” Suguru asked as he walked over to his keyboards. “Did something happen?”

Shuichi blushed. He stared at his hands as his fingers tickled the ivory, avoiding the curious stares of his friends. “Sorta.”

Suguru sighed heavily. “This isn't going to impede our performance, is it?”

“Maybe. Kinda. Sorta.” If Eiri had his way, they would not even be doing the performance at all. Either that or they would not be doing such an upbeat tune like “Spicy Marmalade”.

“Which is it?” Suguru demanded.

“Shu, why don't you just tell us what's going on,” Hiro suggested.

Still avoiding the gaze of the others, Shuichi continued to stare at his fingers as they brushed lightly over the white keys of the piano. “You know how I told you guys the other day that after this, I was taking a break from the band?”

“You mean, because you were on the verge of a nervous breakdown,” Kai clarified.

Shuichi nodded. “Well, that was only part of the reason why.”

The others glanced at one another in confusion.

“Shu, what're you trying to say?” Hiro asked in concern.

“You're not sick are you?” Suguru asked.

Shuichi shook his head, blushing. “You know how long I and Eiri've been talking about having more kids, right?”

“Do we,” Suguru snorted. Before Rinjin Yasashii, that was all Shuichi every talked about.

“Well, we're not talking about it anymore.”

Hiro exchanged a glance with the others. “I don't get it. You've given up or…?”

Shuichi shook his head. “No. We haven't given up. We're actually, uh, gonna have a baby.” He blushed deeply.

“You mean, you're gonna adopt a kid?”

“No, Hiro,” Shuichi denied, shaking his head. “Not adopt. I mean we're going to have a baby. I'm going to have a baby.”

Silence met this stunning confession. The studio was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Then both Michael and Suguru burst into fits of laughter.

Kei and Kai exchanged knowing looks.

Shuichi lifted his head, stunned and hurt that the others once again did not believe him. “What? It's true! I am going to have a baby!”

Hiro sat on his stool. His face was carefully schooled. He remembered back when he visited Shuichi in the hospital and that look of longing and loss he had seen on both Shuichi and Eiri's faces when they saw his son. Then there was all that blood he saw on Shuichi's pants six months back. To this day, nobody had explained where all that blood had come from. After the doctor told them Shuichi's prognosis, he had forgotten all about it.

“Shu, tell me,” Hiro said to his friend over the laughter. “When you and Rinjin fell through the railing at his apartment…”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I noticed your pants covered in blood.”

A sad expression crossed Shuichi's face as he remembered all the things he had lost that day. Most he had eventually recovered, but one thing he never would.

“What was that from?” Hiro asked as silence filtered through the studio.

Shuichi said nothing. Tears stun his eyes.

“The fall caused you to have a miscarriage, didn't it?”

“What?” Suguru exclaimed.

Michael laughed. “Yeah, right! A miscarriage!”

The young manager shook his head. “Hiro that's absolutely ridicul-”

“Yes,” Shuichi admitted softly, nodding, “it did.”

Michael's laughter choked to a halt.

“Now, Shindou-san-“

“I was two months pregnant when Yasashii kidnapped me,” Shuichi said sadly.

“That's what prompted you to quit the band,” Hiro assumed.

Shuichi nodded. “I was already thinking about it before I found out I was pregnant, but once I found out I was, I realized that I couldn't put it off any longer. I could work myself into an early grave and I wouldn't care, but I could no longer afford to be selfish, not even for the sake of the band.” He dropped his head and sighed, staring at his fingers as they laced and unlaced in his lap.

“That's also why you don't want me to smoke.”

Shuichi nodded.

Suguru still was not convinced. “This's a bunch of bullshit!” he exploded. “Shuichi is a guy! Guys do not have babies! They make babies!”

“Uh, well, that's not really true,” Kai spoke up weakly.

“Yeah,” Kei agreed, exchanging a glance with his brother.

All eyes fell to the Shiro twins.

“What're you talking about,” Suguru snapped. “Of course it's true!”

“They've been rumors floating around the family for years,” Kai said. “But nobody ever talks about it.”

Kei nodded. “Every time any of the children or younger members of the family enter the room, the adults clam up and say nothing more. When we try to get them to talk about what it was we heard, they'd get all defensive and tell us to mind our own business.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Suguru snapped.

Kei and Kai glanced at one another and then looked at their older cousin.

“There's some sort of genetic--mutation,” Shuichi offered, for lack of a better term, “that's been passed down in my family for as far back as anyone can remember.”

“Genetic mutation,” Michael repeated. He was not sure if he heard the guy right.

Shuichi nodded.

“What do you mean,” Hiro asked, just as confused.

“This--whatever you want to call it skips a generation. Before me, my grandfather was cursed with it.”

“Okay, but what is this mutation? And what does it have to do with anything?”

Shuichi had never found it more difficult to continue with a conversation in his life. “We're born--different,” Shuichi explained with a wince. He did not like how that sounded, but how else could he explain how he, a guy, was born with the ability to have children? He was nothing more than a freakish mutation, even if it was one he would gladly accept. “We're born with the ability to--get pregnant.” Shuichi dropped his eyes and blushed deeply.

Suguru crossed his arms over his chest. “I still think this is a bunch of bull.”

Shuichi glared angrily at the young synth player. “You can think whatever the hell you want, Fujisaki, but it doesn't change the fact that I am pregnant and I am going to have a baby!”

Hiro lifted his guitar strap over his head and set the instrument in its stand. “When did you find out you were pregnant?” he asked his friend.

Completely forgetting about Suguru and their argument, Shuichi smiled brightly at his best friend. “Last night,” he admitted. “Actually, we've been a little suspicious for awhile now, but it was official yesterday when the doctor called.” He bounced on the bench. “We have to go back later today for a follow up.”

“What!” Suguru cried. “You're leaving early?”

Shuichi turned and glared at the man. “Yes, I am.”

“How far along are you?” Kai asked.

“Almost three months,” Shuichi said proudly. Standing up, he held the button down shirt he had stolen from Eiri's side of the closet tightly against him. “Eiri said it might be twins, see? I've already gained like ten pounds. I can't even fit into my clothes anymore.”

“Twins, huh?” Hiro walked over to his friend and studied him. “Ya know, it's true. You have gained some weight.” He smiled mischievously at the singer. “Think Yuki-san can handle four kids?”

“Huh? Four? Wha-Hey!” Shuichi swatted Hiro. “Not funny.”

Hiro chuckled.

Michael, Kei and Kai walked over to their friend, all smiles and hugs, congratulating the singer.

Suguru watched the group from behind his keyboards with a deep frown on his face. He did not believe Shuichi as far as he could throw him, but it was obvious that the others did. What was worse, Shuichi believed it as well. “Fine,” he said grumpily. “Shuichi is going to have a baby. Can we get back to work please? We have a lot to do in a short amount of time.”

Shuichi threw his friend a beaming smile. “So, you believe me?”

“No,” Suguru said firmly.

Shuichi opened his mouth to say something, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He snapped his mouth shut and looked questioningly at his friend.

“Fujisaki is right. We should get to work. We have a lot to do.”

“Well, then! What're we waiting for?” Shuichi ran the back of his hand over the keys, grinning broadly.

 

* * *

 

**That Evening - Amano Medical Pactice**

The door to the waiting room opened and the same nurse Shuichi recognized from his earlier visit called them in and escorted them into one of the examination rooms. While Eiri sat down in one of the chairs besides Riku, the nurse told Shuichi to take a seat down on the examination table. The paper crinkled beneath him.

“Dr. Amano will be here in a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” Shuichi said brightly. He planted his hands behind him and leaned back, started swinging his legs. He stared around him at the various posters pinned to the walls that dealt with different aspects of pregnancy and childbirth. He could not stop a smirk that crossed his face.

Riku was trying his best not to glance at those same posters. It had been his idea to be here to see if he was going to have one sibling or two and if said sibling (siblings?) were to be brothers or sisters. But maybe that had not been the best decision. He felt slightly nauseous.

“Did you speak to Hiro?” Eiri asked suddenly into the silence.

Shuichi stopped swinging his legs and turned a smiling face towards his husband. “Yep. I told them we were going to have a baby.” His grin broadened. “They didn't believe me at first, of course. Well, Michael and Suguru didn't, but Kai, Kei and Hiro did and then soon Michael did and they all said congratulations and decided that after the performance they were going to throw us a baby shower! But I don't know if Fujisaki'll come because he still thinks I'm lying.” He paused to take a breath. “But what does he know? Fujisaki-”

Eiri sighed, groaning and closed his eyes briefly.

Riku chuckled lightly.

Eiri tossed him a glare.

Smoothing out his face, Riku pursed his lips to keep from laughing, and tried to look innocent, but his dark eyes sparkled with the crime.

“Huh?” Shuichi blinked at the man, concerned. “Eiri? What's wrong? Are you-?”

The rest of what he was going to say was cut off as the door opened and Dr. Amano walked in, his file in her hands. “Hello, Shindou-san, Uesugi-san.” She bowed to both of them in turn.

“Doctor,” Eiri greeted politely.

“And this must be your son?”

“Yes, this is Riku.”

Riku bowed in greeting at the woman. “Hello.”

“Hello, Riku-kun. How are you? Excited about being a big brother?”

“Oh, yes,” he replied enthusiastically.

“Good! Good!”

Shuichi was filled with so much energy; he was practically bursting at the seams. “Dr. Amano! Am I really, really pregnant?”

Dr. Amano chuckled as she turned towards the singer. “Yes, Shindou-san. You are.”

“Baka,” Eiri snapped. “Stop it! Sit the fuck still! You wanna…” He waved his hand as he tried to find the right words. “…dislodge the thing?”

Rolling his eyes, Riku snorted.

Gasping, Shuichi immediately sat still. The color drained from his face. His eyes going wide, his hands flew to his stomach.

“Don't worry, Uesugi-san,” Dr. Amano chuckled. “He's still in the early stages. While he should take it easy throughout the whole pregnancy, he should not be confined to the bed or the couch.”

Shuichi sighed in relief and stuck his tongue out at his husband.

Riku hide his wide grin behind his hand. His parents were something else.

Eiri sighed and shook his head. Despite what the doctor said, that was exactly what he wanted to do.

“Now Shindou-san if you would, could you take your shirt off and lie back?”

When Eiri stood up to stand besides his pregnant husband, Riku slid into his seat.

Eiri glared at the woman suspiciously. “What're you going to do?”

“We're going to check and see what's happening inside of Shindou-san.”

Shuichi blinked as he finished unbuttoning his shirt. Slipping it off, he handed it to Eiri, who handed it to Riku. Riku folded it neatly and set in on the chair besides him.

“What d'you mean? How are you going to do that?” Shuichi asked as he lay back on the table.

“An ultrasound.”

“You mean we'll get to see our baby?”

“Yes, Shindou-san.”

Shuichi squealed and grabbed his husband's hand as he returned to his side. “Did you hear, Eiri? We'll get to see our baby!”

“I heard,” Eiri said.

“Okay, Shindou-san,” Dr. Amano said as she walked around the examination table, a paper blanket in her hand. “If you can lower your pants just a little bit, I'll lay this on your lap and we can get started, all right?”

“How far?”

“That’s fine,” she said as he began wiggling out of his pants.

Dr. Amano laid the paper blanket over his lap and started spreading the gel over his abdomen.

Riku curled his lips in disgust, but his mama giggled and squirmed.

“Baka,” Eiri snapped.

“What? It's cold,” Shuichi whined.

“Your baby will show up on this screen here,” Dr. Amano said, pointing to the computer monitor. She took what Shuichi thought looked like a microphone with the round part at the top hacked off and placed in on the singer's stomach.

Shuichi glanced up at his lover. Catching his eye, he smiled.

Eiri squeezed their still linked hands.

“Ah! There he is,” came the doctor's exclamation after several minutes. She stepped aside and pointed to the black and white screen. “Right there. Do you see him?”

Eiri squinted where the obstetrician was pointing. He saw nothing other than a lot of nothing. It was like looking into a black and white abyss. He saw no baby.

Riku stood up to get a better view. What baby? There appeared to be something pulsating on the screen, but that was it.

Shuichi squealed and squeezed the life out of Eiri's hand, tugging his arm.

The writer winced.

“Oo! Oo! Eiri! I see him! I see our baby!” He smiled through the tears that gathered in his eyes. “Do you see?”

“He's curled up into a little ball. His head is here at the top,” Dr. Amano pointed out.

Eiri still could not see his son. It was like when you go to see a psychologist and he asked you to tell him what you see in an inkblot. What did he see? A whole lot of money just thrown down the drain. “I still see no baby.”

Riku was with his dad.

Dr. Amano nodded, her eyes never leaving the screen. “That's all right. A lot of people find it difficult to make out anything in the early stages, especially if the baby is hiding.”

Shuichi giggled. “He isn't hiding.”

Eiri snorted and threw Shuichi a side-glance. “He is your son,” he smirked.

“Yep,” Shuichi chuckled, beaming with pride.

“This is little bum, his legs and his arms. Would you like to know the sex of the baby?” she asked, smiling over her shoulder at them.

Eiri and Shuichi glanced at each other. Shuichi did not care what the gender of his child was. Just the fact that he could give Eiri a family was more than enough, but it would be nice to know in advance. It would make things a lot easier when they got the nursery ready and started buying baby clothes and things, though the surprise would be cool as well.

“Eiri?”

Eiri really did not care either way, though he privately admitted that he did want a son. “Sure,” he finally said with a shrug.

“Riku?” Shuichi asked their son.

“Huh?” Pulled out of his studies, Riku glanced around. He was the center of attention.

“Would you like to know if you have a brother or sister?”

Riku’s face lit up. “You can tell?”

“I can try,” Dr. Amano replied.

“Okay!”

Eiri reached over and ruffled Riku’s hair.

“Dad,” Riku whined. He stepped away from the blond writer and went about straightening his messy locks.

Shuichi giggled.

Dr. Amano nodded and turned back to the monitor. Her forehead creased in deep concentration. She shifted the instrument around, the gel making a nauseous squishing sound. After a couple minutes, a smile crossed her face. “Congratulations. It looks like it's a boy.”

“A boy?”

“Yes, Shindou-san.”

Shuichi laughed over a sob as tears spilled down his cheeks. He turned his head and grinned at Eiri happily. “We're going to have a son, Eiri,” he cried.

Eiri reached out and brushed away his husband's tears, smiling.

A wide grin split Riku’s face.

“Oh,” Dr. Amano cried suddenly. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

“Huh?” Shuichi turned his attention back to the doctor, his heart pounding in fearful anticipation. “What's wrong? What happened? Is it-?”

Dr. Amano shook her head, grinning. “Don't worry, Shindou-san. Nothing's wrong. In fact, it seems as if you have a stowaway.”

Eiri's eyes widened. He knew it!

Riku glanced at his parents and then the doctor and then the screen. Stowaway? What did that mean?

Shuichi blinked in confusion. “A stowaway? I don't understand. How can there be a stowaway? Don't-?”

“Idiot! It means there're two in there.”

Riku’s eyes went wide. Twins? He was going to have two little brothers? Wow. Cool!

“T-two?” Shuichi stared wide eyed at Eiri. He had known about the possibility, but…

“Are you sure?” Eiri asked his face carefully blank.

“Yep.” Dr. Amano smiled. “Congratulations, Shindou-san, Uesugi-san. It looks like you're having twins.”

Shuichi covered his mouth as he began sobbing. Tears flooded down his face, blurring his vision. He turned his head, staring at his boys on the screen and smiled. “Our boys,” he choked out.

Eiri, his throat feeling uncomfortably tight, bent down and enveloped Shuichi within his arms, holding him tightly. He buried his suspiciously wet face in the singer's soft black tresses. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I know,” Shuichi sobbed back.

 

* * *

 

**The Next Morning - En Route**

The next morning as Shuichi was being driven to work he thought back to what Eiri had told him the day before on their way home from the hospital.

_“Shu, I want you to do a different song for your performance.”_

_“Okay,” Shuichi readily agreed, his hands lying protectively over his stomach._

_Eiri blinked in surprise and turned to look at his husband curiously. That was too easy, he thought. “You're not going to argue?”_

_Shuichi shook his head. “I've been thinking about doing a different song anyway,” he admitted truthfully._

_Golden hazel eyes fell to the small hands that rubbed lazy circles over a stomach just beginning to swell. Eiri rested a hand over Shuichi's. Shuichi had a glow about him that made him even more beautiful then before. Violet eyes lifted and locked with his. Eiri could not stop himself from smiling._

 

He really did not have a problem with doing a different song. Truthfully, once he learned there really was a bun in the oven, he had known that the chances of getting to perform a song like “Spicy Marmalade” were less than zero. Even if Dr. Amano said it was all right, as long as he took it easy, there was no way in hell Eiri was going let him go prancing around stage.

While he had no problem switching songs, the others might, especially Suguru. It had been hard enough to convince him to do the MCVMA's in the first place, but now that the show was just a little over a week away…?

Oh, boy. Today was going to be fun.

oOo

NG Productions

As was his usual style, Shuichi burst through the studio door all smiles with energy to spare. “Hey, guys,” he cried happily.

“Hey, Shu,” they all greeted.

“How was your doctor's appointment?” Kai asked his cousin.

Shuichi shut the door behind him and bounced across the room, his eyes sparkling. Giggling, he reached into his bag, pulled out a white card and handed it to Hiro. “Open it! Open it!”

“What is it?” Michael asked, curiously.

As the guitarist opened the card, Shuichi plopped down onto the couch next to him, bouncing and folded his hands in his lap to keep them from snatching the card and doing it for him. The others gathered around them.

Hiro gasped and his eyes widened as he studied the sonogram picture. He lifted shocked eyes to his best friend. “Shuichi! Is this…?”

A smile split Shuichi's face, nodding energetically. He bounced up from the couch and took the ultrasound picture from Hiro. “My first baby pictures!” He giggled. “I had to pry this out of Eiri's hands and threaten him with no sex in order to bring this in today.” He pointed to the two heads clearly labeled and showed the others. “Do you see? Twins!” He laughed gleefully, pointing at the black and white photo. “Twins!”

Suguru marched over to the group and snatched the picture out of Shuichi’s hands. He studied it and could see nothing other than a bunch of black and white swirls. It was like looking at a cinnamon roll, but he could not see a baby, let alone two babies. The x-ray picture was clearly labeled, indicating where the heads and bodies were, but he still could not make anything out. “I don't see a damn thing,” he snapped. This whole thing was getting ridiculous. This joke was getting way out of hand.

Still smiling largely, Shuichi nodded. “Yeah, neither could Eiri.”

“Here, let me see it,” Kei said. Shuichi gave him the picture and the others crowded around to see the first images of the Uesugi-Shindou babies. “Wow, Shu. I can't believe it.”

“Congratulations, Shu. I'm happy for you,” Hiro said, hugging his friend.

“Thanks, Hiro,” Shuichi smiled, hugging him back. He pulled away and his smile faded. “But you won't be after I tell you this.”

“Uh, oh,” Michael said as he handed the picture back to Shuichi. “Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling?”

Shuichi smiled sadly, as he placed the black and white photo back in his bag.

Suguru's head snapped around. “Don't tell me you're backing out!”

“Backing out?” Shuichi's head snapped up. Why would Suguru even think something like that? “No,” he protested. “No, we're doing it!”

“Then, what's up?” Hiro asked.

“Well, uh…” How was he supposed to tell them that all the hard work they all have been doing was all for naught? “You see…”

“We're not going to do ‘Spicy Marmalade', are we?” the red-haired guitarist guessed.

“What?” the others cried in shock and disbelief.

Suguru stared wide eyed at their singer. “You've got to be kidding!”

Shuichi smiled sheepishly at them, scratching his head. “I wish I was.”

Crying out, Bad Luck's young manager pulled at his hair and paced away from the source of his stress. “Shindou-san! How can you-? Do you have any idea-? Ugh!”

“I know and I'm sorry, but with this new turn of events, both Eiri and I…” Shuichi felt like such a heel for doing this to them, but there was nothing to be done about it. “We don't want to take the chance-“

Hiro laid a hand on his conflicted friends shoulder. “It's all right, Shu. We understand.”

“What!” Suguru turned to stare incredibly at the taller man. “Hir-Nakano-san!”

“At least tell me we're still doing ‘The Rage Beat'.”

“Of course! We can't disappoint a bunch of kids, can we?”

Knowing any protest he made was fruitless, Suguru sighed heavily and slumped down in the chair. “Okay. So, we can't do ‘Spicy Marmalade'. Then what do you suggest we do?”

“Well, Riku made an interesting suggestion,” Shuichi said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Suguru laid his head against the back of the chair and wished this were all just a bad dream.

 

**…To Be Continued…**


	9. Bad Luck's Final Curtain Call

**This I Promise You**  
 **Sequel to: “My Heart Beats Like A Drum”**  
 **Building A Family series**  
 **Written by:** Chochowilliams  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Gravitation_ or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.  
 **Summary:** Could it be that Shuichi really is just paranoid or is there something about the new neighbor?  
 **Warning:** M/M, Sexual Situations, Romance, Drama, Angst, Fantasy, Infidelity, OOC-ness, Language, M-Preg, Masturbation, Anal, Oral, Minor Character Death, OCs, 1st person POV, Japan Natives: surname first   
**Pairings:** Shuichi/Eiri, Hiro/Ayaka, Hiro/Suguru, OMC/OFC  
 **Insert:** recap from Chapter 8, “Send Me An Angel” by Scorpions  
 **A/N:** Enjoy!

 

* * *

 

**Last Time**

“We're not going to do ‘Spicy Marmalade', are we?” the red-haired guitarist guessed.

“What?” the others cried in shock and disbelief.

Suguru stared wide eyed at their singer. “You've got to be kidding!”

Shuichi smiled sheepishly at them, scratching his head. “I wish I was.”

Crying out, Bad Luck's young manager pulled at his hair and paced away from the source of his stress. “Shindou-san! How can you-? Do you have any idea-? Ugh!”

“I know and I'm sorry, but with this new turn of events, both Eiri and I…” Shuichi felt like such a heel for doing this to them, but there was nothing to be done about it. “We don't want to take the chance-“

Hiro laid a hand on his conflicted friends shoulder. “It's all right, Shu. We understand.”

“What!” Suguru turned to stare incredibly at the taller man. “Hir-Nakano-san!”

“At least tell me we're still doing ‘The Rage Beat'.”

“Of course! We can't disappoint a bunch of kids, can we?”

Knowing any protest he made was fruitless, Suguru sighed heavily and slumped down in the chair. “Okay. So, we can't do ‘Spicy Marmalade'. Then what do you suggest we do?”

“Well, Riku made an interesting suggestion,” Shuichi said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Suguru laid his head against the back of the chair and wished this were all just a bad dream.

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 9: Bad Lucks Final Curtain Call**

The next week and a half went by in the blur of activity. Bad Luck perfected their acoustic, instrumental version of “The Rage Beat” while on the other side of the city, the Asian Youth Orchestra they hired to accompany them the night of the award show worked on their bit for the performance. Together, they all came up with a suitable transition piece that would tie in “The Rage Beat” with the band's final song of the evening. The song Riku had suggested suited the occasion very much, but it had been quite a shock to them all when Shuichi had agreed to his son’s idea. Changing the final song at the last minute had stirred up quite a hornet’s nest. They had already started the choreography, lighting, and pyrotechnics and decorating the stage, all of which had to be thrown out and reassessed.

Shuichi had no idea how their involvement in one of the biggest shows went undetected, but it did. As Tohma said, only a few very select people knew Bad Luck was going to be there at the MCVMA's and they were sworn to secrecy. They even had to sign a contract promising they would not tell a soul until after the performance was over, otherwise there would be some serious consequences.

The day before the big day, the auditorium where the show was to be held was shut and locked down. Security was so tight you would think the Prime Minister or the Royal Family were inside instead of a rock band. Even they would have a difficult time gaining entrance, though. Only those people immediately involved with the show were allowed anywhere near the building as Bad Luck went through their whole performance for the first time. Everyone was in awe of the students who seemed much more together than the members of Bad Luck. There were a few glitches with light, sound and synchronization, but they were quickly worked out.

The day of the actual performance dawned bright and clear. There was another dry run the day of the show before a few pre-award show awards were handed out and once again, the place was shut and locked down as the special guests went through their performance one last time.

Shuichi had never felt so nervous in his entire life. A herald of butterflies fluttered restlessly in the pit of his stomach. It had been over a year since he was last on a stage and he was scared. He was so nervous about that night's performance he felt nauseous, but at the same time, he felt…“Excited” was too tame a word for how he was feeling. He was looking forward to finally being able to go up on stage and do what he loved to do.

This was his life. He loved being up on that stage and looking out at a sea of exultant fans screaming and having the best time of their lives. He loved it when they could sing the song with no help from him. He loved every single minute of it, but as much as he enjoyed what he did, there came a time when everyone needs a break, some time away and this was his. Besides, who said this was the end? Bad Luck might make a comeback some day.

 

* * *

 

With his earpiece in, Shuichi paced backstage, full of nervous energy as he waited for his cue to go on.

Because he had put on some weight due to his pregnancy, if his regular street clothes did not fit there was no way his stage attire would fit, so he coerced the costume department to let him go on stage in casual wear that consisted of a white button down shirt opened halfway to show a plain black shirt tucked into a pair of crisp new dark blue jeans. He had on his gold necklace; tiny diamond studs in his ears and of course his wedding ring. It was a nice change.

So far, nobody had any idea who the special guest performers were going to be. Many people suspected Nittle Grasper. Boy, were they in for a huge surprise! Even now, ten minutes before they were scheduled to go on, backstage was a scene of utter and complete chaos. The children's orchestra was in place on stage, ready for the signal to begin. Bad Luck was kept well hidden and away from everyone not involved with the performance.

Closing his eyes, Shuichi hummed, getting a feel for the music, and started his vocal exercises.

Right about now, they were giving away the last award of the night, which was the Viewer's Choice. Bad Luck had been the favorites this year to win, but unfortunately, they would not be able to accept their award in person if they won. Instead, they decided in the event they should win, someone would go up to receive it for them.

Shuichi squealed and clapped widely as Bad Luck's name was announced. “We won! We won,” he whispered. He became teary eyed as the whole place jumped to its feet. A deafening explosion of cheer rippled through the auditorium. An echoing cheer erupted backstage. The crewmembers grinned proudly and congratulated the band, clapping the singer on the back.

Through tear-blurred vision, Shuichi watched the television that had been set up backstage as the cameras focused in on Eiri and Riku sitting in the audience. The MC announced over the thunderous applause that accepting for Bad Luck was Yuki Eiri. Shuichi watched as his husband and their son walked up to the stage and bowed politely to the presenters--some big shot actors that were all the hype back in the early and mid-nineties. Eiri accepted the heavy, silver award and turned to stand at the podium.

Shuichi had never loved his family more than he did right now. Riku had no problem speaking in front of audiences, no matter the size. He loved being the center of attention, but Eiri on the other hand hated doing this kind of thing and for him to get up on that stage in front of millions of people made Shuichi love him even more.

“Thank you,” Eiri said into the microphone as the place quieted. “Firstly, Shuichi and I both wanted to thank you all for your prayers and get well cards. This has been a very difficult time for us and knowing everybody cared and supported him gave him the strength and the courage to be able to pull through and get better.”

Cheers and clapping followed this statement.

“So,” the writer continued, “once again thank you to all of the Bad Luck fans out there and everyone who made this possible. I know they would say that if it were not for you, they would not even be here today. Thank you.” He lifted the award and bowed as the place erupted into thunderous applause, but instead of being escorted off stage, Eiri stepped back and let the applause die down once again.

“One minute,” came the shout backstage as Riku stepped out from behind his father and up to the microphone. The lights backstage dim and if Shuichi thought there was chaos before, it escalated, ten fold.

Shuichi handed over his cane to one of the crewmembers and someone handed him his microphone. It would not be turned on until he was actually on stage. He was escorted to the bottom of the stairs that he would have to climb in order to get to the platform where he would begin the song.

They had decided that the orchestra and Suguru would start with the extended version of the Last Element Mix version of “The Rage Beat” and act as if that was all they were doing, a tribute to Shindou Shuichi and Bad Luck's long and lustrous career, but then the second song would begin and Shuichi would make his grand entrance.

“Each year, the MCVMA's have a special surprise guest,” Riku was saying. “Last year it was Nittle Grasper, live via satellite from New York.”

Applause and catcalls followed this statement. Eiri had to fight to roll his eyes. Of course, Riku knew all about the “special guest” because he watched this award show every year whether Bad Luck was appearing or not. Eiri was only aware about the “special guest” that appeared each year because each year he was forced into either watching or coming with Shuichi to the show. If it were anyone else, he would have killed him or her for dragging him to an annoying, obnoxious event.

“But this year, it's even more special. Our special guest this year is a band that disappeared from the music scene over a year ago.”

Whispers erupted in the audience. Shuichi could hear the smirk in Riku's voice.

“They are a band that suffered a tremendous and devastating blow earlier this year. Everybody thought that was the end for them, but I am here to say that everybody was wrong. Ladies and Gentlemen, it my pleasure to welcome back to the stage…Bad Luck!” He stepped back and swept his hand towards the stage.

Almost immediately, the auditorium erupted in sound. Everyone jumped to his or her feet, eager to see the band that had been written off. Whistles, hoots and hollers were the only thing you could hear above the thunderous applause.

Shuichi choked back a sob. He turned his head and watched as Eiri and Riku were escorted at a runner's pace through the throng of people towards him. He stood up and raced towards him, tears digging trails down his made up face. “Riku. Eiri,” he sobbed as he hugged first his son and then his husband. “Thank you!”

As the soft beautiful strains of the violins began, silence descended upon the place. The gentle sounds of Suguru's synthesizer accompanied the melodious sounds. Soft lights flickered on illuminating the children's orchestra and the keyboardist. The opening strains of “The Rage Beat” filtered out across the auditorium, lulling the audience gently with the slowed down version of Bad Luck's hit single.

“Baka,” Eiri whispered, hugging his husband tightly. He pulled back and tsked. “Now you've gone and ruined your makeup.”

Shuichi laughed and dried his face as the makeup people rushed forward to fix the damage as he was escorted back to the platform. Above him, he could hear the rest of the orchestra join in, transforming the song he had written into something almost magical.

“Shu,” Eiri called. “Good luck! I love you!”

“Good luck, Mama!”

Shuichi blew his lover and son a kiss and smiled as he started up the ladder.

 

* * *

 

“The Rage Beat” ended, fading out to roaring applause.

The wind instruments picked up the dropped beat, changing effortlessly from one song to the other flawlessly. They created a sound that sounded almost like a smooth whistle. Suguru echoed that sound on his synthesizers. From the other side of the stage Kai joined, playing an acoustic guitar. He echoed the cords Suguru was playing almost staccato like, but made them flow just as smoothly and slickly.

The audience cheered the addition of the guitar player, but Kai knew whom the people really wanted to see.

As the intro continued to soothe and lull the audience, the spotlights on the stage slowly started to rise to the platform at the top of the stairwell in the center of the stage. The colored lights flickered softly in time with the smooth melody, morphing smoothly from one color to another.

As the lights hit the top of the staircase, the audience took an audible gasp and jumped to their feet. A thunderous crashing sound erupted from the whole building when they saw standing there right before their eyes, Shindou Shuichi.

Violet eyes snapped open. He lifted his head and stared out over the hundreds of people whose eyes were riveted on him. He saw tears and smiles. Girls were screaming, hugging one another and jumping in excitement. The whole place had a thrilled and exulted atmosphere.

“The wise man said just walk this way/To the dawn of the light,” Shuichi sang.

A quiet hush fell upon the auditorium. “Send me An Angel” was a ballad Bad Luck had remade for their last album. It was the song they had been rushing to complete.

“The wind will blow into your face/As the years pass you by/Hear this voice from deep inside.”

Shuichi slowly started down the steps, without the aid of a railing or his cane. The onlookers gasped in amazement as the man who had just months before lay paralyzed in a hospital bed walked down towards the stage as if nothing had ever happened.

“It's the call of your heart/Close your eyes and you will find/The passage out of the dark/Here I am!”

Hiro, standing by his microphone waiting for his cue and his guitar waiting patiently, and Kai echoed him softly, “Here I am.”

“Will you send me an angel/Here I am!”

“Here I am.”

“In the land of the morning star!” Shuichi held the last note as he stepped off the steps and walked across the stage.

The soft sound of the song was joined by Kei on the drummers, Michael on the bass guitar, Hiro on electric guitar and the rest of the orchestra.

Shuichi started towards the front of the stage, pouring his whole heart into the song.

**The wise man said just find your place**   
**In the eye of the storm**   
**Seek the roses along the way**   
**Just beware of the thorns.**   
**Here I am!**

“Here I am.”

“Will you send me an angel/Here I am!”

“Here I am.”

“In the land of the morning star!”

Hiro stepped forward and wailed a short guitar solo. He made his guitar sing like no other could. The last strains echoed away, garnishing him enthusiastic applause as Shuichi started to sing again.

“The wise man said just raise your hand/And reach out for the spell/Find the door to the promised land.”

Shuichi walked across the stage, looking out over the sea of faces, their hands waving in the air. Most had tears running down their faces. He felt a lump in his throat and the tears he had been trying to hold back rolled freely down his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Eiri and their son standing in the wings.

“Just believe in yourself/Hear the voice from deep inside/It's the call of your heart.”

This had always been one of his favorite songs and after everything he had been through, the song meant so much more. For two months, he had been wandering in the dark, unable to find his way out. He had been lost and confused, unsure of himself and anything else. Eiri had been his angel, calling him back. Knowing him, the rest of his NG family and fans were all standing behind him had given him the courage to stand up and beat this thing.

“Close your eyes and you will find/The way out of the dark.”

Shuichi walked out along the catwalk that extended out into the audience as he sang the final chorus. Fans crowded the runway, extending their hands out towards the singer. Smiling, Shuichi bent over and slapped the dozens of hands. Switching his microphone to his other hand, he did the same for the fans on the other side.

**Here I am (Here I am)**   
**Will you send me an angel**   
**Here I am (Here I am)**   
**In the land of the morning star**   
**Here I am (Here I am)**   
**Will you send me an angel**   
**Here I am (Here I am)**   
**In the land of the morning star**

As he made his way back to the main stage, he repeated the final chorus again; swaying to the music and this time Hiro stepped forward and let his guitar wail and sing, reprising his solo through the entire verse this time.

“…Here I am (Here I am).”

The music ended and there was a slight pause where the audience began clapping and whistling encouragingly.

“In the land…of the morning star,” Shuichi sang a cappella, breaking the final line in half. His voice faded and the auditorium erupted in enthusiastic applause.

Shuichi opened eyes he had not realized were closed and smiled through his tears at the passionate standing ovation Bad Luck was given. He was going to miss this. Placing the microphone in the stand, he stepped back and waved to the crowd. Suguru, Kei, Kai, Michael and Hiro joined him. They raised clasped hands above their head and bowed. The applause exploded.

“Thank you!” he shouted above the noise. “Thank you and good night!”

Bad Luck bowed once more and headed off stage.

As soon as he was in the wings, Shuichi launched himself at his husband, grinning broadly. Eiri caught the sweaty singer and swung him around. Putting him back on his feet, he pecked him quickly on the lips. Shuichi suddenly felt exhausted and totally drained now that it was all over. He was wide-awake and pumped up on adrenaline, but at the same time, his legs were bothering him. They felt kind of like jell-o, all jiggly and wobbly, like if he took one more step his legs were going to splay in opposite directions like a colt taking its first steps. Not to mention, he was beginning to get a headache and he suddenly felt nauseous. All he wanted at this point was to go home and cuddle with Eiri, but unfortunately, the night was far from over.

“Shindou-san,” called one of the stagehands.

Pulling away from his husband, Shuichi turned and took his cane the man was holding out. “Thanks,” he smiled weakly.

“You were awesome, Mama,” a grinning Riku said.

“Thanks, Riku.” He hugged Riku to his side with his free arm.

“Shindou-san,” called one of the production assistants. “We have the press room all ready for you guys,” she said.

Shuichi sighed heavily as he pulled away from Riku. He really was not in the mood

Eiri stepped forward and wrapping an arm around his husband's waist squeezed him gently to his side. “Come on, Shu. The sooner we get going, the sooner we can go home.” Eiri bent over and whispered huskily in his ear, “And celebrate.”

When a warm blush spread across Shuichi's cheeks, Riku rolled his eyes. It was great that his parents were so into each other, but they could be so embarrassing, especially when they flirted with each other, and especially in front of him. Please! Some children would rather not know about their parents’ love life thank you very much. Talk about being scarred for life. Yeesh.

Shuichi lifted his head and stared at his writer husband, his eyes sparkling in anticipation. That sounded pretty damn good to him. Wrapping an arm around Eiri's waist, he rested his head against the man's broad chest and let him drag him to the pressroom.

Shuichi stood outside the pressroom and took a deep breath. The butterflies returned as he thought about what he was going in there to do.

“Ready?” Eiri asked him, dropping his arm.

Not really, he thought, but it must be done. Exhaling, Shuichi nodded. “Yeah, let's go.”

“C’mon, Riku,” Eiri called.

Riku whined. Damn. He thought he’d be able to get out of the press conference. Guess not.

Together, Shuichi and Eiri led the others into the room where the press was waiting. As soon as they entered, a bevy of cameras went off, following the group's progress to the stage. Tonight he would not be so much as ending one aspect of his life as putting it on hold while he started another.

“Shindou-san! Shindou-san,” came the shouts.

Here we go, the singer thought.

 

* * *

 

**Six Months Later - September - Mikonos**

They were seated in the farthest corner, secluded behind beautiful potted trees and several screens. The ceiling lights in the place were dimmed so low, there really was no point in having them on. Instead, the Greek restaurant, Mikonos, was illuminated by the candles that sat in the middle of each table. The candles gave off a soft glow, but surprisingly kept the room lit enough to be able to see your way around without tripping all over yourself or bumping into any of the other patrons.

“Thank you, Shu-chan,” Eiri whispered. He leaned across the table, cupped his husband's face and gave him a long, lingering chaste kiss. “Happy Anniversary,” he whispered as he pulled away.

“Happy Anniversary, Eiri,” Shuichi whispered back.

“So,” the writer said, taking a sip of wine. "This is the place Tohma suggested last year?”

“Yeah,” the singer blushed. “Is it okay?”

Eiri shrugged. “We'll see when our food arrives, but the service so far has been pretty good.”

Shuichi's doctors had ordered complete bed rest for him; they knew how hyperactive he was and because he was pregnant with twins, they did not want to chance him having another miscarriage. So Eiri had assumed that for their anniversary they would be spending a nice, quiet dinner at home, but Shuichi had been determined to bring him here to Mikonos, the Greek restaurant where he planned to ask him to marry him. Eiri had intended to put his foot down, but once Shuichi looked at him with those puppy dog eyes, those fake tears and oh, so cute pout he had given in.

Kami-sama, he was so whipped.

He caught sight of their server heading their way with two plates and a basket balanced on his arms. Eiri had always been amazed at how they could juggle so many things at once without dropping something. Shuichi could barely carry one plate from the counter to the table without spilling something.

“Speak of the devil.”

“Here is your Tiropsomo,” the man said, setting the light brown basket on the table. “And your Horiatiki salata.” He set a rather large plate of Greek salad in front of each of the men and stepped back.

“Thank you,” Eiri said.

“Is there anything else, Gentlemen?”

“Nothing for now, thank you.”

The young server bowed and left.

Shuichi glanced at the salad that was large enough to feed three people and grimaced. He picked up his fork and poked at the bunny food, glancing at Eiri who had already started eating his and who was watching him closely.

“Eat it Shuichi.”

The singer grimaced. “What's in it?” he asked suspiciously.

“Stuff that's good for you.”

That was a matter of opinion.

“Now eat,” Eiri ordered.

Shuichi poked his fork at what looked like a flower bud. “What's this?”

“A caper.”

Shuichi blinked at him. “A what?”

Eiri sighed. “It's a caper, an edible flower.”

“A flower?” Shuichi's face scrunched up. “Gross! I'm not eating a flower!”

“You will eat or I'll force it down your throat.”

“Aw, man,” Shuichi whined. “What else is in here?”

“Those red things are tomatoes-“

Shuichi glared at him.

“Hey, you asked.”

“Eiri,” Shuichi growled threateningly.

Eiri sighed. “Tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, and onion. That white crumbly stuff is feta cheese. If you've never had it before, you could get the runs.”

Shuichi's lips curled back in disgust. As if he did not go to the bathroom enough as it was.

“There're also black kalamata olives, capers, as I said, parsley, oregano, salt, oil and vinegar.”

Shuichi put down his fork, unsure if he could even try the green mixture in front of him. This was the last time he let Eiri order for him. The basket the server had placed in the middle of the table caught his attention. “And what's this?”

“Tiropsomo: cheese bread,” he clarified at Shuichi's blank expression.

That did not sound so bad. He grabbed a slice of the still hot bread and took a tentative bite. Immediately, he fell in love with it. “This is good,” he commented.

“At least you like something,” Eiri muttered. “You will eat that salad, Shindou Shuichi.”

Shuichi rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mom.” He laughed when Eiri shot him an evil glare, but his laugh choked to a sudden stop. His hands flew to his gigantic stomach.

The glare was gone as if someone had flipped a switch. Eiri's fork clattered to the table. Jumping to his feet, he was instantly at Shuichi's side when the raven-haired man's face twisted into an unreadable expression. “Shu! What's wrong?”

Shock filled violet eyes lifted and locked with golden hazel ones. “I--think it's--time.”

Eiri straightened and stared down at Shuichi blankly. His mind could make sense of what Shuichi just said. It was as if he had spoken to him in some strange foreign language. The writer knew there was something he was supposed to be doing, but for the life of him, he could not think of what that was.

“Eiri?”

Shuichi's voice snapped him out of his daze. He looked over his shoulder and singled to their waiter. Pulling out his wallet, he paid their bill, giving the man a sizeable tip for the mess they were leaving him.

“Keep the change,” he said.

The man bowed. “Thank you, Sir. Have a pleasant night.”

He was not so sure about that.

Eiri helped Shuichi to his feet. Then dug out his cellphone and calling Marcus, told him to bring the car around. Pocketing his phone, the blond writer wrapped his arms around Shuichi's waist and helped him out of the restaurant, trying not to draw too much attention.

When the car pulled up, Eiri did not bother to wait for the chauffer or the big, burly guard to open the door for them. Instead, he helped his husband inside and ordered them to take them to the nearest hospital. “Now,” he growled.

It was safe to say nobody questioned him.

 

* * *

 

**Uesugi-Shindou Residence**

A pounding on the door woke Riku out of a sound slumber. What the hell? It was the freaking middle of the night! He had school in the morning. He did not need this. Muttering angrily under his breath, Riku stumbled his way through the darkened condo towards the front door.

“Get dressed,” ordered a voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

Riku blinked sleep blurred eyes as the figure. The syllables meant nothing to his sleep muddled mind. “…Huh?”

His uncle Tohma slowly came into view. “Shuichi’s gone into labor. Get dressed.”

 

* * *

 

**Keio University Hospital**

“Hug your legs to your chest,” Dr. Amano told Shuichi several long and agonizing hours later, “and on the next contraction, bear down hard like you're going to the bathroom.”

Shuichi nodded. He grabbed his ankles and pulled his legs back to his chest with trembling hands. Kami-sama, he was scared. Eiri was so going to pay for putting him through this. “Tell me why I'm doing this again?” he asked his husband.

Eiri smirked softly at the smaller man. He reached out and swept his husbands damp raven bangs aside. “Because you love me.”

Shuichi snorted. “Not right now I don't.”

Eiri chuckled.

“Don't worry, Shindou-san,” the doctor reassured him with a smile. “Everything will be fine.”

Easy for her to say. She is not the one lying here about to give birth.

Shuichi looked at his husband standing besides him. He was glad Eiri was here.

Eiri smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder, telling his lover without words that everything was going to be all right.

“Here we go,” the doctor said, looking at the monitor by the side of the bed.

There was no need to tell him. Even with the epidermal, he could feel the damn contraction coming. How could you not see the bullet train barreling towards you? Shuichi turned back towards the doctor, waiting.

“And…PUSH!”

He bore down with everything he had, grunting with the excruciating effort. Sweat glistened down his face, gluing his gown to his body. Eiri had helped tie his hair back earlier and right now, he was glad for that. The back of his neck was dripping with sweat. His face was flushed and warm.

“2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9 and breathe.”

Letting out his pent up breath, he had barely enough time to catch his breath when the cycle started again.

“And push! 2-3-4-5…”

 

* * *

 

“All right, I see the head! Take a breather, Shindou-san.” Dr. Amano smiled happily at the father-to-be half an hour later. “It looks like he has your hair, Eiri-san.”

A grin slowly crossed Eiri's face.

“Okay, Shindou-san. One final push…! Got him!”

Shuichi collapsed onto the bed panting heavily.

The baby's umbilical cord was cut and his nose and throat were cleared. Almost immediately, a near ear-splitting wail rang through the delivery room. The sound of his son's wails brought tears to Shuichi's eyes.

“Here is baby number 1,” Dr. Amano cried. He held the screaming baby up so that new parents could see him.

Shuichi burst into tears. “Oh, Eiri,” he cried in perfect imitation of his newborn son.

“He's beautiful, Shu-chan.” Despite all that goop he is covered in, he added silently.

“That's because he looks like you,” Shuichi giggled through his tears.

That was an understatement. Their son looked like a miniature version of Eiri with a head full of yellow-blond hair, oval face and long thin nose. Shuichi wondered what color his eyes were going to be.

“Yeah,” Eiri agreed, “but he has your lungs.”

Shuichi chuckled. There was no denying that. The kid had one set of powerful lungs. Not to mention, he sounded kind of upset and annoyed, just like Eiri when he was bothered. Like father, like son, Shuichi thought happily.

 

* * *

 

A short time later, Uesugi-Shindou baby number two arrived in much the same manner as his brother. Shuichi could not seem to stop crying. That might have been one of the most painful experiences in his entire life, but it had been well worth it.

He had been through so much in just the past decade that he thought he had been cursed to never live a happy, normal life, but maybe in the end, it had been worth it, if for nothing more than to get to this point.

Shuichi felt so content with where his life was and where it would be going that it made him a little suspicious and just a little scared, but he pushed those negative thoughts aside. His life was finally getting back on track and he was going to enjoy it.

Eiri sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arm around his husband, hugging him tightly. He, too, had tears glistening in his eyes. “I'm proud of you, Shu-chan,” he whispered, kissing the top of Shuichi's head.

Shuichi laid his head against Eiri's chest with a sigh and smiled. “I love you, Eiri.”

“I know,” Eiri whispered back.

“But, next time, you're going to be the one lying here.”

Eiri snorted. No way in bloody hell was that ever going to happen.

“Here you go,” announced a nurse in a come-hither voice, a small swaddled bundle in her arms. “Baby one.”

Eiri stood up and the nurse gently laid the quiet infant in his mother's arms.

“Thank you,” Shuichi whispered, cradling his son gently to his chest. He smiled through his tear-blurred vision and kissed his son lightly, holding him securely. His son looked up at him with the most beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen. “Oh! He's so cute, Eiri!” Shuichi giggled through his tears. “You look exactly like your daddy! Yes, you do!” Shuichi sniffled. He could not seem to stop crying or smiling.

Standing besides his husband, Eiri smirked as he rubbed lazy circles on Shuichi's back.

“Ya know, I bet you're going to have Daddy's eyes, too,” Shuichi cooed. “You'll be the cutest baby in town!” He looked up at his husband. “I bet this's what you looked like as a baby.”

Eiri snorted.

“Right?” Shu asked his son. “ What do you think, huh?”

The baby just stared up at him, watching him as if he were trying to memorize his face.

“You're just a little Daddy-clone!”

Eiri snorted out a laugh. Where did he get this stuff?

A second nurse walked up to them. “Here you go,” she smiled, as she laid baby two in Shuichi's other arm.

“Hi,” Shuichi cooed to the baby. His kissed him softly. “I'm your mama.”

The baby looked up at him and yawned loudly.

“Awe,” Shuichi laughed. “Tired, huh? Yeah, you guys had a big day.”

As Shuichi continued to talk to his sons, Eiri's face softened as he glanced down at his family. A soft smile lit his face.

Shuichi smiled up at him. “What should we name them?”

Eiri reached out and caressed his eldest boy's cheek. The baby looked up and locked eyes with his father.

“That tall, handsome, sexy man is your daddy,” Shuichi told his son. “Say, ‘hi, Daddy'.”

Eiri chuckled. “Taro.”

Shuichi blinked at him. “What?”

“His name'll be Taro,” indicating his eldest child. “And…” The writer studied his other boy who was an exact duplicate of his brother, considering. He reached out and touched his son's baby soft face, smiling. “Jiro.”

“Taro and Jiro,” Shuichi repeated slowly. “Eiri,” he scolded. “First born son and second born son?” He shook his head, clucking his tongue. “Jeeze! Why not ‘Heir' and ‘Backup Heir'?”

Eiri glared at his husband, but Shuichi looked innocently back at him. “Fine,” Eiri sighed. He thought about names for his son's, good, strong ones. A slow smile crossed his face. “Keitaro and…Kane.”

“Keitaro and Kane,” Shuichi repeated. “'Blessed' and…” He looked up at Eiri help.

“'Little brother' in Gaelic.”

Shuichi nodded slowly. “I like them.” Despite the fact that Kane still had a title for a name, he thought. He glanced down at his boys. “What do you guys think, huh?” he asked, smiling brightly. Both newborns glanced up at him with their cloudy brown eyes that Shuichi knew would turn into beautiful golden hazel in due time. Shuichi kissed them, chuckling, then glanced up at his husband, who dipped his head and kissed him.

“I love you, Shindou Shuichi,” he said, pulling back.

“I know,” Shuichi whispered back. “But I'm still never going through this again.”

We will see about that, Eiri thought. We will see. “Yeah,” he called when there came a knock on the door of Shuichi’s private room.

“Mama? Daddy?”

“Come here,” Eiri ordered. “Come meet your brothers.”

Riku stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and crossed the room towards Shuichi’s bedside. “Mama,” he whispered in wonder. “They’re so cute.” He reached out and ran the back of his knuckle every so gently across his brothers’ warm, flushed faces. He chuckled. “They look like you Dad.”

Eiri rolled his eyes. “So I’ve heard.” Crossing his arms across his chest, he took a step back and regarded his boys and his husband. A rare smile crossed his face.

 

**…The End…**

**A/N:** Next in the Building A Family series: _Because of You_

 


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